


Protecting the Protector - A Little Dean FluffFest

by GoodSmutarian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Dean, Baby Dean, Comforting Sam, Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Cas, Daddy Sam, Dean is three, Dean loves his Sammy, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Guardian Angel Castiel, Little Dean, Little!Dean, M/M, Okay yeah minor Sastiel, Pet Names, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Really though so much fluff, Scared Dean, Shmoopy mcshmoop, Toddler speak, bro feels, showering together, terms of endearment, wait is this gonna be Sastiel, what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 71,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodSmutarian/pseuds/GoodSmutarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean falls under a spell and is now three years old, mentally and physically (but he knows who his Sammy is). Sam vows to take care of his little brother for as long as he needs to, and maybe give him some good childhood memories while he's at it. And then there's Cas, the angel that's never let them down. And ever since Dean has been little, Sam is seeing their angel in a whole new light...</p><p>“Sammy,” Dean said again, pointing to his own face. “Lookit my freckwes.”<br/>Sam groaned again. “Dean. You got out of bed, climbed onto the sink, and hollered at me…at six-thirty in the morning…just so I would come look at your freckles?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I just needed some Little Dean fluff. Fluffffffff. Not sure where it's going but will update whenever I have stuff to add

“SAMMY!”

Sam Winchester rolled over in bed and groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“SAMMY!” The high-pitched voice came again.

“Dean.” Sam dragged out the word. What the hell time was it anyway? He glanced at the cheap motel clock on the nightstand. Six-thirty am. Great.  He had stayed up half the night scared that Dean would stop breathing or something, and had gotten maybe three hours of sleep at most.

Taking care of his older, now younger, brother, was not something that fit into Sam Winchester’s normal routine.

Ganking demons and vampires? Sure.

Averting the apocalypse? Done and done.

Salting and burning ghosts? No big deal.

Taking care of a newly turned toddler-Dean and keeping him safe and protected?

Well. Sam wasn’t sure he had the cojones for that.

He sat up in bed, and squinted at the harsh, bright light that had been turned on above the standard hotel sink.  He frowned when he realized the young voice was coming from a much higher height than it should have been.

That thought made Sam shoot out of bed.

He stumbled towards the sink, where Dean was precariously perched on his knees, studying himself in the mirror.

“Dean?” Sam stood in front of the sink that Dean was kneeling on top of, unconsciously placing his body in the spot that Dean could tumble down from.  “What the hel- what are you doing up here?”

Dean practically went cross-eyed trying to study his own reflection so closely in the mirror, and almost lost his balance when he turned to look up at Sam. Sam’s arms shot out reflexively to steady him, and it was a testament to how much Sam needed coffee that he didn’t immediately lift Dean off of the sink; instead he merely braced Dean’s three-year old form so the child wouldn’t tumble off the porcelain.

“Sammy,” Dean said again, pointing to his own face. “Lookit my freckwes.”

Sam groaned again. “Dean. You got out of bed, climbed onto the sink, and hollered at me…at six-thirty in the morning…just so I would come look at your freckles?” Sam’s mouth curled up despite himself. He was exhausted, and he needed caffeine, but Dean’s focus on the little brown dots spotting his nose and cheekbones held the little boy fascinated, and Sam’s stomach flipped a little at the fact that his brother did not want Sam to miss out on this captivating discovery.

Dean pressed his fingers into his face, and when he spun around to smile at Sam he actually did lose his balance.

Sam caught him easily, and lowered him to the floor. “Climbing up onto high surfaces while I’m not around, or just in general…not a good idea, De.” The childhood nickname rolled easily off Sam’s tongue, and Dean pressed himself against Sam’s leg in apology before running back to the bed.

“Sowwy, Sammy.”  Dean bounced up onto the hotel bed, and Sam rolled his eyes.

He really needed to call Bobby, or Garth, or Missouri, or anyone, _anyone_ that might have a hope of helping him figure out why Sam had woken up the previous morning with a three-year old version of his older brother plastered to his body.  Sam had tried praying to Castiel once he had discovered that Dean had been cursed back to being a toddler, both mentally and physically, but hadn’t heard anything back or seen Dean’s angel show up.

They had been on a hunt, Sam had remembered. He recalled sneaking up on the coven and taking out at least three witches. But one had remained, and Sam remembered green dust, and a short chant, and then everything after that was a blur.

Then he had woken up in their motel room, still wearing his grimy jeans and plaid shirt, a smaller, more vulnerable version of his older brother huddled in the crook of his arm, sucking on his first two fingers, Dean’s mouth halfway open in sleep.

“Come on, Cas.” Sam tried again now, muttering into the dawning light streaming through the window. He scooped Dean up to drag into the shower with him. “Could really use some help here, buddy.”

 

“Sammy!” Dean squealed. “Cold!” Dean huddled between Sam’s bare legs inside the shower, sheltering himself from the spray.

“Give it a sec, Dean. If you hadn’t kept flushing the damn toilet while I was starting the shower, you wouldn’t be cold right now.” Sam winced as Dean’s little fingers wound themselves in Sam’s leg hair.

Sam kept his boxers on, figuring that even though he and Dean had seen each other naked a ton of times throughout their lives considering the close quarters they had always shared, there was something off about being a bare assed adult in front of a three-year old.

Dean, however, had no such qualms.  Once Sam had started stripping him down to get ready to bathe –a shower would be fine as long as Sam was in there with him- Dean had taken Sam’s cue and shed the rest of his clothes like they had been on fire, letting Sam lift him into the tub, giggling like a madman the entire time.

Dean stuck out a hand to let the drops of water fall onto his fingers. “It’s rainin’, Sammy!”

Sam ducked his head under the water, shampooing his hair quickly while Dean was distracted. “Yeah, bud, the shower is like rain.” Sam put a small dollop of shampoo on his hand and turned his body so Dean was under the spray. “Close your eyes, Dean. I’m gonna wash your hair real quick.” Sam scrubbed his fingers over Dean’s light brown hair, keeping his brother’s head tilted back so the suds wouldn’t get into his eyes.

Sam had no idea how long this curse, spell, whatever was going to last, so he hadn’t had gone out and invested in baby shampoo and all that paraphernalia. It’s not like they had been swimming in luxury baby products growing up; Dean would be fine following Sam’s lead for as long as this thing lasted.

After soaping them both down, he hustled Dean out of the tub and dried him off quickly, not wanting him to get chilled. Sam wrapped a towel around his waist and herded Dean out of the bathroom. He could toss an old tee-shirt on him for now.

Sam had resigned himself to the fact that until he could get help figuring this out, he at least needed to get proper clothes for Dean. They were somewhere in the Carolinas, and it was early September, so the weather was still relatively warm but Dean needed clothes his own size to wander around public in.

Sam grabbed a tee shirt out of Dean’s duffle and held it out. “Okay, Dean, come on. Put this on for now until we get you some regular clothes.”

Dean clutched the towel around his small body, and shivered. “Don’t wanna move. Cold.”

Sam held out the shirt. “I know, bud, but this is dry and warm. It’ll be a quick change, I promise.” He shook the shirt enticingly.

Dean stayed huddled in his towel, the precociousness he displayed earlier nowhere to be found, looking every bit the scared and nervous toddler that Sam supposed he now, at least temporarily, was.

Sam quickly traded his towel and wet boxers for dry briefs and jeans, and sat on the edge of one of the beds, spreading his legs, dangling Dean’s tee in between them. “Dean, come on. Come on, baby, you won’t even notice the cold. I’ll do it real fast.”

Dean ran in between Sam’s legs, and Sam drew the shirt quickly over Dean’s head at the same time Dean dropped the towel.

“There.” Sam’s hands completely dwarfed Dean’s shoulders where he rested them. He tugged Dean close and hugged him. “That wasn’t so bad, huh?”

“Tank you, Sammy.” Dean cuddled into the warmth of Sam’s chest, and Sam couldn’t resist scooping Dean up and setting him on his knee. “Guess we better go get you some pants.”

Sam placed Dean on the bed beside him so he could toss on a shirt before they went shopping.

Dean pressed a hand to his belly. “Hungwy, Sammy.”

Right. Shit. Breakfast. Sam could have been happy just grabbing some cheap motel coffee on their way out the door, but Dean needed some real food.

Sam sent out silent props to all the single parents in the world. This would be so much easier if he had another pair of hands. “Dammit, Castiel, where are you.”

Dean dove behind Sam on the bed when they heard a loud fluttering noise. “I am right here, Sam.”

Sam looked up to see Cas standing not two feet in front of him, Castiel’s gaze searching out the small lump hiding behind Sam on the bed.

Sam stood. “Cas, thank God, listen man, I need your help. Dean’s been, uh, well, Dean is-“

“SAMMY!” Dean cried, his little hands digging into the waistband of Sam’s jeans. He turned a terrified gaze onto their new visitor, his eyes wide with fear, darting between Sam and Castiel.

“Dean.” Sam reached down and ran a hand over Dean’s hair. Dean had stood up on the bed, and he leaned his little body against Sam’s bare torso. “Dean, it’s okay, bud. It’s Cas. Castiel.  Don’t you remember Cas?” Sam supposed that even if somewhere in the back of Dean’s little mind he did remember his angel, that a person – celestial being, whatever- just appearing out of nowhere would be enough to freak anyone out.

Sam wasn’t really quite sure how this all worked. They had been hit with plenty of spells and other shit in their line of work, but being turned into a toddler hadn’t been on the list of Things We Know How To Deal With. Toddler-Dean had known perfectly well who Sam was, so Sam had only assumed he would recognize Cas as well.  Apparently that wasn’t the case.

Or Cas’s sudden appearance had freaked Dean out enough to shut down other thought processes.

Castiel took in the small form huddling behind Sam. “Hello, Dean.” He issued his standard greeting.

“Dean.” Sam said softly, running a hand along Dean’s hair again. “Dean, it’s okay. It’s Cas.” Sam reached down and picked Dean up, settling him on his hip so Dean could be more at Castiel’s eye level.

Sam watched nervously as the two studied each other. Social interactions weren’t exactly Castiel’s strong suit, and he worried that one or both of them would fumble through this exchange and somehow make things worse.

So Sam was completely surprised when Castiel slowly lifted a finger in Dean’s direction, and he stepped unconsciously closer when Dean wrapped a little hand around it and held on.

A small smile graced Castiel’s face. “Hello, Dean.” He repeated, softer this time.

“Hi.” Dean’s voice was small, and he was still huddled against Sam, but he gripped Castiel’s finger tight.

Sam watched the whole exchange, eyes wide with surprise, and was only jolted back into the conversation when Castiel asked, “How long has he been like this, and how old is he?”

Sam shook his head. “Since yesterday morning, and I’m not really sure. I don’t have much experience with little kids.” He laughed sourly. “That’s always been more Dean’s department. But he’s younger than I’ve ever seen him.”

Castiel gave Sam a slight nod. Turning his blue eyes on the small child in front of him, he asked patiently, “How old are you, Dean?”

Dean unwound his fingers from where he had been holding onto Cas’s hand, and stuck some of them up. “I’m fwee.”

“Oh my god,” Sam said quietly. He pressed his forehead to Dean’s, and cuddled the little boy close. Looking over Dean’s head, Sam couldn’t help the words that left his mouth. “Cas. He’s so freakin’ cute.”

Castiel nodded. “I don’t think he is in danger.”

Sam looked at him, puzzled.

Cas corrected himself. “What I mean is, I do not think he has fallen to any harm due to this spell. Except for his tiny form, of course.”

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I won’t know for sure unless I am able to test him. But he appears healthy and unharmed. A bit nervous, perhaps, but he knows that within your arms, he is safe.”

Sam’s arms tightened around his brother. “He is.”

Cas nodded again. “Yes.” He looked around the room, then back at Sam. “I shall make some inquiries. This could be a simple matter of retracing your steps and undoing what once was done. Or it could be more complicated. This is not something I have seen, but I will ask the garrison what they think.”

Sam bit his lip. “Do you think that is such a good idea? I mean, Dean isn’t exactly persona non grata. Maybe the fewer people, angels, whatever, that know about this, the better.”

Castiel studied the little boy in question. “Perhaps you are right. Many hold grudges against Dean, and you as well. Knowing his current vulnerability, and likewise now yours, might not bode well for the Winchesters. I will be discreet, and do some digging on my own.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed. Something else stuck in his mind. “Wait, what did you mean, ‘test him’?”

“I can take a look inside, see what Dean does and does not know. I can see what kind of condition he is in overall.” Castiel reached out two fingers towards Dean’s forehead.

Sam swung his now little brother out of the way. “Uh, maybe later. Let me get some coffee, and food, and,” he gestured to Dean’s bare feet sticking out from the oversized tee shirt, “some clothes. Then we can talk soul-searching, okay?”

“Okay, Sam.”

“Great.” Sam thrust Dean against Castiel, the angel’s arms reflexively coming up to hold the little boy. “Can you watch him while I go get those things? Thanks.”

Sam threw on his jacket and darted out of the hotel, car keys in hand.

Castiel tipped his head down to look at Dean, who was studying him with big green eyes.

“Well, Dean.” Castiel looked around the sparse room, and sat down on one of the beds, setting Dean gingerly in his lap. “Tell me what activities human cherubs enjoy these days.”

Dean looked at him nervously for a moment, then grabbed Cas’s hand again. Dean brought the angel’s hand to his face, and said proudly, “I have freckwes.”

 

Sam spent the day shopping for way too many toddler clothes and supplies. He had always worn Dean’s hand me down old tee shirts growing up, and had no idea that kid’s clothes these days were so dang _cute_. He picked out batman pajamas, superhero tee shirts, and a bunch of Lightning McQueen clothing items and accessories, because Dean loved nothing more than his car. He stocked up on snacks, juice boxes, coloring books, markers, and even bath toys, because why the hell not. Also a car seat, because he didn’t have any desire to get pulled over for unsafe driving.

He only felt vaguely guilty for dropping over three hundred bucks at Target on a fake credit card. It was all for Dean, and how many people had Dean saved over the years? So Sam couldn’t find much conscience within himself to care about the fraud.

He texted Cas that he had better take Dean out for breakfast because no way would Sam be back in time if he was going to get everything he needed. No signs pointed to this curse being lifted anytime soon, and Sam would rather get everything in one shot.

Sam paid for his purchases and loaded everything into the car, then took another look at his wallet, pursing his lips in thought. Between the credit cards he and Dean both had, Sam figured they could stand to splurge a little. A week here, a week there, as long as they kept moving every handful of days, they should be able to afford better than the ratty motel sixes off the barest parts of highway.

Headed back to current said motel six, Sam vowed to haul Dean away to the nearest Marriot or something. Somewhere with hot breakfast, and nice rooms, space for Dean to play, and a pool they could mess around in. Sam ran back inside the store to grab a couple of swimsuits.

If his big brother- little brother, whatever- was cursed to live out life for now as a toddler, then Sam was gonna give him the best damn time he could.

 

Sam took Dean out for lunch while Cas skittered away on angel business. Cas promised to come back that night to really check Dean out, make sure there were no hidden side effects or downsides to whatever spell had befallen him.

Dean crashed around two, taking a three hour long nap which Sam was actually quite grateful for. Sam pulled up a local map on his laptop while Dean slept, deciding they would stay here one more night then head out in the morning. They were only three hours from the beach, and Sam picked a reasonably nice hotel right on the oceanfront as their next day destination.

Dinner was a sad state of goldfish crackers and turkey sandwiches, but Dean didn’t seem to care. He was seated at the little hotel room table across from Sam, perched on his knees so he could reach the table. He had pushed his food away in favor of working in one of the coloring books Sam had gotten him, and Sam was munching on Dean’s half-eaten sandwich when Castiel reappeared.

“Hello Sam.”

Dean yelped and fell off his chair, only saved from hitting his head on the floor by Castiel’s quick reflexes.

“Mean!” Dean pointed at Castiel. His face scrunched up, and Sam tugged him close before Dean started crying. “You scareded me.” He scrambled up onto Sam’s lap, glaring at Cas.

“My apologies, Dean.” Cas said sincerely. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“What’s up, Cas?” Sam asked, rubbing circles on Dean’s back. “Find out anything?”

“I tried to be as subtle as I could, but no, no one in the garrison has heard of this happening before.” Castiel glanced at Dean, then gave Sam a long look. “I really would feel much better if I examined Dean.”

Sam let out a long sigh but admitted reluctantly, “Yeah, I would too.” He didn’t like the idea of Cas going inside Dean’s soul, or his mind, or where ever Cas’s angel mojo targeted, but if there was a way to find any latent downside to this spell, Sam couldn’t really turn it down.

“Alright then.” Castiel stepped forward, fingers outstretched.

“Cas!” Sam held Dean close. “Wait. You’ve gotta. I mean. We need to , you know, prep him. You can’t just do it.”

Castiel waved a hand in a _go on_ motion that clearly stated he had no time for Sam’s preliminaries.

“Dean.” Sam turned Dean around on his lap to face him. “Remember how I told you that Castiel is a friend? Well, he is a friend with some very special powers. And he needs to use those powers on you to make sure you are a healthy little boy. It’s like going to get a check-up, except you don’t even have to go to the doctor! Does that sound good?”

Dean eyed his brother warily.  “Like…super powers?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Like super powers. Like Batman and Superman, except Castiel is way more powerful than both of them.”

Dean looked excited for a moment, then took in Castiel’s serious expression and sank back against Sam. “I don’t wanna.”

“It will be very quick Dean, and you likely will not remember it.” Castiel tried to explain.

“I’ll be right here the whole time, De, okay?” Sam turned Dean around on his lap to face Cas, and tucked his chin against Dean’s shoulder. “Right here. It’ll be over before you know it. I just need you to be brave and let Cas check you, okay?”

Dean hadn’t seemed so small as he did in that moment when he shrank against Sam. He said in a small voice, “Okay, Sammy. I be bwave. For you.”

Sam gave him a quick squeeze. “Thank you, Dean.” He nodded at Cas to get on with it, quickly, before Dean could freak out.

Cas reached out two fingers and gently touched Dean’s forehead. Sam held his brother tight as Cas’s eyes glinted blue, and Sam squinted against the bright energy that flowed towards Dean.

Dean stiffened in Sam’s arms, his little body going completely rigid. Sam ran his hands down Dean’s arms and squeezed his little hands, willing Cas to hurry up and get out of his brother.

What seemed like minutes took only seconds, and with a strong exhale Cas lowered his fingers from Dean’s forehead, and Dean’s little body slumped against Sam.

“Dean?” Sam gave his brother a small shake, and leaned his head around so he could see Dean’s face. “Dean? You okay, buddy?”

“S’mmy.” Dean said weakly. He turned and climbed up Sam’s chest, trying to wrap his legs around Sam while his little arms wound around Sam’s neck. “Sleepy, Sammy.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut in relief and held Dean close. “Okay, bud. Bedtime.” He raised his eyebrows at Cas.

Castiel nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. “He is fine, Sam. A bit small for the average human three year old, it seems, but completely healthy. His soul is clean, his mind uncluttered.”

Sam’s eyes welled up. Dean’s mind uncluttered? That hadn’t been the case since, well, ever.

Sam decided in that moment that he didn’t care how long Dean stayed little. He would keep looking for a reversal spell, sure, but for the time that Dean was a carefree toddler?

Well, Sam would give him all the love and good memories that his older brother deserved. Ones that Dean had always tried to give to him.

 

Sam tucked Dean in that night into Sam’s bed, kneeling at its side, because he was selfish and didn’t want Dean to be far away, even just the six feet of distance of sleeping in the other bed.

Dean yawned and tugged on Sam’s shirt. “Where’s Cas?”

Sam turned to look over his shoulder, and saw the angel standing awkwardly on the other side of the room. Sam figured Castiel still had things to talk to him about that he was saving for after Dean fell asleep. “He’s right there, bud. Wanna say goodnight?”

Dean nodded. Sam waved Castiel over to the beside, and as Cas approached Dean shot up in bed. “Where you come from?” he demanded.

Well then. Sam held back a laugh. Say goodnight, his butt. Dean may be small, but he wasn’t stupid.

“I…uh…pardon?” Cas asked, his gravelly voice carrying a note of confusion.

“You didn’t knock on the door. Or call Sammy. And I didn’t see you and then I saw you. And you always scare me. Where you come from?” Dean asked, his eyes drilling into Cas. “Are you magic?”

“Uh,” Castiel faltered a moment, then sat down on the bed next to Dean. “I suppose grace is a form of magic. I am an Angel of the Lord. My grace allows me to transport anywhere I would like.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “An angel?” He peered around Castiel’s body, looking for wings.

Castiel nodded. “An Angel of the Lord, yes.”

Dean studied him. “You choose to come see me? And Sammy?”

“Well, I have many people to see, Dean, but –oomph,” Cas grunted when Sam elbowed him in the side. “Yes, I choose to see you. I quite enjoy visiting you, actually.”

Dean bit his lip. “Mommy says angels are watching over me. You watch over me, Cas?”

Sam coughed to cover up the very unmanly noise that threatened to leave his throat, along with a tear that slid out the corner of one eye, damn these dusty motel rooms. He could see a hint of the masked vulnerability that adult Dean kept under lock and key, displayed here in his innocent toddler face as naked curiosity and want.

Cas laid a hand on Dean’s head, and Sam watched his brother’s eyes instantly start to droop. “I will always watch over you, Dean.”

“And S’mmy,” Dean said, half asleep.

“Yes, and Sam.” Castiel acknowledged. He ran his hand down Dean’s hair, and when he removed it Dean’s eyes were fully closed, his little chest rising and falling evenly.

“He will sleep through the night. Soul searching can be exhausting.” Castiel said quietly.

Sam reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand without thinking, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing it. He watched Dean slip into sleep. “Thanks, Cas,” Sam said softly.  The day had been tiring for both of them, and it wasn’t long before Sam crawled into bed next to his brother, getting as close as he could without waking Dean up.

It was only when Sam was just about to fall asleep that he heard the flutter of wings signaling Castiel’s departure.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean spend two days at the beach
> 
> Thanks KoaLani for the inspiration and the super quick beta! All remaining mistakes are mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS. I have no words. No words. You have overwhelmed me with your response to this fic. I love writing Daddy Sam and Little Dean, and am so glad you are enjoying it with me. Thank you so much for all the lovely kudos and comments <3 I hope to continue to deliver. I will post whenever I have substance...I will never hold fics from you on purpose!  
> xoxox

“And nen Batman came home, but he forgot his car, so he went back and drove his car, and nen he parked his car, and nen his fwend came to his house, to eat dinner Sammy, and nen they talked um, they talked until, till it was late and they had to go to bed. And nen Cas came and they went to bed.”

Sam smiled at Dean’s chatter, his heart light with the pure ridiculousness of his little brother’s words.

Since Cas had put Dean to sleep the night before, Dean seemed to think that no one could possibly fall asleep peacefully without the help of an angel. Sam thought it was adorable, and oh man did he have a list of things to needle adult Dean with when he came back.

If he came back.

Sam pushed that thought away, and tuned back into Dean’s chatter, casually driving the Impala down the beachside highway along the South Carolina coast. They were nearing the end of their drive, the expansive Atlantic beachside being their destination for the day. Sam had booked them a decent hotel the day before, and was looking forward to showing Dean the ocean for the first time.

Well. This first time, anyway.

“Don’t you think, Sammy?”

Sam looked at Dean in the rearview mirror. Dean was studiously looking out the side window at the sparsely lined highway. “Sorry, bud, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

Dean kicked his feet and grabbed onto his car seat straps. Whatever he had said wasn’t important enough to repeat, and he latched onto his next subject, which was, unsurprisingly, food. “Lunchtime, Sammy.”

Sam smiled, the sharp Carolina sunlight soaking through the windshield to reflect off of Sam’s sunglasses and his dimples. “What do you want to eat, Dean?”

“Ummmm,” Dean sang the word. “Chicken. And pizza. And oatmeal.”

Ha! When had that kid ever eaten oatmeal? Sam nodded. “Sure, baby. Whatever you say.”  He pulled into their hotel, and turned to look at Dean after shutting off the car. “I have a surprise for you, Dean. A really, big surprise.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “What surprise, Sammy?”

Sam got out of the car, opening the back door to grab Dean so they could check into the hotel. “A really, cool, exciting surprise. Let’s go inside, then we will get food and see the surprise, okay?” He hitched Dean onto his hip, patted his jeans to make sure he had his wallet, and pocketed the car keys.

“Okay!” Dean said excitedly.

He got them checked into their room, and ten minutes later Sam headed back to the hotel on foot, with chicken tenders, fries, and chocolate milk. He carried the bag of food in one hand and Dean in the other. Sam hurried back to the room, and for once ate his food faster than Dean. He let Dean eat naked in exchange for making him hold still so Sam could slather newly purchased sunscreen all over the three year old, Dean still grabbing for fries while Sam manipulated him into being rubbed down.

Okay, so, maybe Sam was just as excited for the beach as he was to show it to Dean. Sue him.

After they ate, Sam grabbed the shopping bag that held their swimsuits and held Dean’s out to him- light blue swim trunks with black sharks. Dean used Sam’s arms for balance as he stepped into the new garment, excited that he could go outside without a shirt on.  Growing up in Kansas on a modest budget, Sam was pretty sure Dean had never seen the ocean, but he wondered if John or their mom had ever taken Dean to the pool when he had been little.

“We swim, Sammy?” Dean squealed with excitement.

Guess that answered that. Sam smiled and nodded. “Yeah, bud. We are going to the beach to swim in the ocean! How cool is that?” Sam wondered for a moment if it had been a mistake not to buy the little floatie things that went around children’s biceps, but shrugged the thought away. It’s not like he’d let Dean go into the ocean without him.

Dean looked at him, puzzled. “Go ocean?”

“We are going to go see the ocean, Dean. The Atlantic Ocean. It has waves, and we can build a sandcastle, and you can pick out seashells, and…” Oh man, Sam was sounding like a crazy person.  He briefly wondered why it was so easy to fall into the role of older brother with Dean when he himself had always been the youngest. Maybe because Dean was so little. But though Sam may be the younger sibling, his protective streak ran strong when it came to his brother, and even more so now.

Or maybe he just wanted to see Dean’s little eyes fill with wonder and excitement at something as mundane and un-supernatural as the ocean.  

 

Sam held Dean’s hand in his as they headed towards the beach, squinting into the sun, the strong sea wind whipping around their shoulders. They made their way across the wooden steps leading from the hotel pool to the beach, Dean squeezing Sam’s fingers in cautious excitement.

The moment Dean’s feet hit the sand, he wiggled his toes at the grainy new sensation. It took a few seconds, but Sam could tell the moment Dean registered the heat of the sun-soaked sand.

“Sammy! Hot! SAMMY!”

Sam chuckled and reached his arms down at the same time Dean leapt into them, and Sam sped quickly across the hot, dry beach. Even his calloused feet burned a little; he could only imagine what Dean’s baby new skin would have felt. He kicked himself mentally for not thinking about that.

Okay, so he had some work to do on this older brother thing.

He dropped their towels and other beach necessities down about twenty feet from the shoreline and kept walking. When Sam reached cooler, damp sand that had been touched by the tide, he lowered Dean down. “Here we go, bud.”

“No!” Dean clung to Sam’s forearms, keeping his little knees bent so his feet wouldn’t hit the sand again.

“Dean, this stuff isn’t hot, I promise. The water has cooled it off. See?” Sam bent down, Dean still clinging to him, and picked up a handful of cool, damp sand to put on Dean’s forearm.

Dean looked down at the clumpy sand covering his skin and touched it, pushing his fingers into the pile. He looked at Sam with his mouth open in a wondrous “oh!” and lowered his legs to the ground. He dug his toes into the sand, watching them disappear under the brown goop.

“Sammy! My toes!” Dean squealed. He looked over to Sam’s larger feet, inches from his, working their own way into the sand. “Your toes!”

“Where did our toes go, Dean?”  Sam wiggled his feet and watched in awe as Dean did the same. Sam’s whole life had been spent trying to be more like Dean; he never thought he would see the day that it would be the other way around.

 “The beach ate-ed them!” Dean lifted his feet from the mucky sand and stomped back down again. He plodded his feet up and down, turning in circles, letting his feet get wetter and wetter from the sand but not quite going into the water.

Sam watched Dean’s eyes take in the roll and retreat of the waves, the foamy sea line lapping close to where they stood. This was new, seeing his brother this way. Adult Dean never showed fear, never displayed hesitation. It was part of what Sam admired about him so much. “Dean,” Sam asked cautiously. “Do you want to go into the water?”

Dean turned nervous yet excited green eyes on him, and Sam inhaled sharply like he’d been punched in the gut. This was why, he realized. This was why Dean never showed fear. Protecting someone younger, sweeter, more innocent than yourself made you bolder than you ever would have thought possible.  Sam had always had Dean for an older brother, and had never known that feeling, that feeling of being the one with all the answers. Someone else looking at you like you held the key to the universe.

Now, Sam had trouble regretting whatever spell had befallen Dean. Because now he did know.

And seeing Dean’s eyes watch the rise and crash of the waves in childish wonder, with no other burdens on his shoulders, Sam wasn’t sure he was so eager for it to end.

He swallowed hard, and held on a little too tight when Dean put his hand in Sam’s. Dean pointed to the waves. “Go ocean?”

“Yeah, De,” Sam choked out. “Let’s go ocean.”

 

Okay, so their first foray into the Atlantic was kind of hit or miss, Sam thought to himself later that night. Dean hadn’t really gone very far into the water- he had let the sea crawl up to his shins before reaching up for Sam to hold him above the waves. Sam only walked them out about waist deep before Dean had deemed it far enough. The salt water splashing into his eyes had hurt enough to make him tear up, and after the long drive in the morning and no nap, Dean hadn’t mustered up more energy for much after that.

That was okay, Sam thought as he hustled them into another shower. They still had tomorrow. Sam was determined to give Dean more than one quick look at the beach, and they didn’t have anywhere they needed to be. Sam trusted Cas to let him know when they should keep moving for safety’s sake, and he hadn’t heard from the angel yet today. As far as he knew there was no real threat yet.

Dean sat down in the tub in between Sam’s legs, playing with the suds made by Sam’s washing. Sam sheltered Dean from the bulk of the shower spray, and took the time to indulge in a thorough washing of his hair and body.

“Come on, De.” Sam pulled Dean to his feet. “Your turn.”

Dean stood patiently as Sam shampooed and scrubbed him, washing the salt and sand off his skin. Dean was a lot calmer tonight, likely wiped out from his time in the sun. It had only been a few days, and Sam knew Dean should probably be taking baths rather than showering with his older brother, but Sam was coming to enjoy their nightly routine.

By the end of their shower, Dean was slumping lazily against Sam’s leg, and Sam wrapped him in a soft towel and carried him to bed. The hotel had been pretty booked up, and their room had a huge king bed with cool cotton sheets and a fluffy comforter. Sam towel dried their hair, and molded a very sleepy Dean into his Batman pajamas.

Sam was pretty wiped himself, and didn’t even bother turning on his laptop that night, instead choosing to turn in early with Dean.  He drew on a pair of comfy sleep pants and laid Dean down in bed, curling up next to him, enjoying the sweet baby smell that was his brother.

“Did you have fun today, De?” Sam combed his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yes, Sammy. Wanna go back to the ocean.”

“We can spend all day tomorrow at the ocean, Dean. I’m gonna turn off the light, okay? I’m right here if you need me.” Sam flipped off the bedside lamp, turning the glow of the nightstand clock towards Dean in case his brother wanted a hint of light.

“S’my?” Dean rustled underneath the sheets. “Where’s Cas?”

Sam rubbed Dean’s back. “I don’t know, baby. He must be busy with angel stuff. I’ll tell him you said goodnight, okay?”

Dean was already half-asleep. “’Kay. G’night, Sammy. G’night, Cas.” Dean whispered.

Sam hugged Dean close, and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean.”

 

“Sammy I do it!” Dean pointed proudly towards the damp mound of sand that emerged when he lifted up his bucket, just the way Sam had shown him. The upturned cylinder stood as a sturdy corner to their humble sandcastle’s tower.

“Good job, De!” Sam scooped sand away from Dean’s turrets with his large hands, creating a moat. He couldn’t wait to see Dean’s face when he showed him how the little scooped out quarry would fill with water and protect their castle.

Dean eagerly piled more sand into his bucket. Sam had plopped him right on the faintest shoreline, where the sand was damp enough to hold together but dry enough not to fall apart.

It was something Dean had showed him twenty-some years ago.

Dean plopped three more little towers along his castle’s line. He was so distracted he didn’t even notice when Sam smoothed another layer of sunscreen across his freckled nose.

“You’ve got sand in your hair, baby.” Sam chuckled. “And your skin is warm. One more tower and then we’ll go rinse off in the ocean, okay?”

“Two more, Sammy.”

Sam took the extra bucket and walked backwards into the water so he could still see Dean. He laughed and called out, “Okay, Dean. Two more.”  He bent over to let the rushing waves fill up his bucket for Dean’s moat, and caught a beige figure standing a few feet further into the water.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam whipped his head around. “Cas!”

Dean had looked up at Sam upon hearing his voice, and raced to the water, stopping when the waves lapped at his ankles.  “Cas!”  Dean took an excited step into the ocean, but winced when the sea foam from the crashing waves splashed against his legs. “Sammy?” He reached out his arms.

“It’s okay, De. Come on.” Sam waded back a few steps to grab Dean, lifting him onto his hip and walking back to Cas. “Jesus, Cas, are you- you can’t just appear in the middle of the ocean fully clothed! You’ll look like a crazy person!”

Castiel glanced down at his attire, quickly getting soaked as the ocean waves swirled and crashed around him. He flicked his wrist, and in the next second only his bare torso was visible above the water line. “Better?”

Sam exhaled. “Better.” He looked down and saw the murky water whirling around Castiel’s hips. “Um, Cas.” Sam stuttered. “You kept your…I mean, you’re not…Holy shit, Cas, are you naked?”

“You said not to be fully clothed.”

Dean giggled “Castell naked.” He put his hand over Sam’s mouth. “And Sammy say a bad word.”

Sam cringed at the salty water taste that Dean smeared across his lips. “Sorry, De. Cas, I didn’t mean take _all_ your clothes off. You need…Oh, my. Nevermind.”  Sam absolutely did not notice the sharp cut of Castiel’s hips.

“Swimsuit, Cas!” Dean pointed to his own. “Mine has sharks. See?”

Castiel took in Dean’s bathing attire, then angel mojo’d a matching swimsuit onto his own body.  

He asked Sam again, “Better?”

Sam swallowed. “Better. What are you doing here, Cas? Are we okay?” Sam tightened his hold on Dean, not wanting their beach day to end. Dean didn’t even seem to be bothered by the waves today. Sam and Cas were far enough out now that they were ahead of most of the waves, their bodies gently swaying with the swell of them before they rose up and crashed to shore. 

“I think so. I came to check up on Dean. Soul searching can be rough on adults; I have never experienced its effects on children.”  He turned a soft gaze on Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hi Cas!”  Dean leaned over in Sam’s arms, studying Castiel but not reaching for him.

“Dean, jeez. You’re going to fall.” Sam grappled to hang on to his brother, who was squirming and twisting to try to see behind Castiel.

“Cas naked.” Dean said again.

“Not really, De, he has on a bathing suit. Holy crap, child, what are you doing?” Sam hooked his hands underneath Dean’s armpits and held on tight.

“Cas,” Dean asked seriously. “If youse an angel, where you wings?” He reached up and patted the top of Castiel’s head. “And you halo.”

Sam’s heart swelled, melted, and dripped right into the ocean. As much as he knew he would eventually start to miss adult Dean, Sam would never get tired of seeing and hearing this sweet, unworried, innocent version of his brother.

Castiel lifted his hands up to hover atop his own head where Dean’s hand rested, which Dean took as a cue to invite himself into the angel’s arms. For all that Castiel was awkward in almost every human situation, he never seemed to have trouble holding little Dean.

“This vessel does not show my wings, Dean.” Cas explained in his low, rumbling voice. “As for the halo, well.” He turned sad eyes onto Sam. “I am not sure I would deserve that anymore.” Sam shook his head in what was supposed to be comforting denial, but Castiel injected lightness into his normally monotone speech pattern and looked at Dean. “Do you enjoy the expansive ocean, Dean?”

Sam took advantage of Castiel’s extra set of arms and rinsed his hands in the water before running them down Dean’s face, washing his brother of the sand that clung to his cheeks and eyelashes. “Close your eyes, De. There we go.”  

“It’s ‘kay, Castell. Sammy holds me, um, really high, above the waves but I like when they splash my legs.” Dean accepted Sam’s treatment and ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair, and after indeed finding no halo, settled into the angel’s arms. After a moment he perked up. “Cas! Come see my castle!”

Sam walked with Cas back towards the shore. He looked at the angel over Dean’s head and asked, “Cas. You sure there was nothing else you wanted to tell me?”

Castiel caught Sam’s gaze. “We can speak later, Sam. I shall leave you now.”

Dean lightly smacked his little hands against Castiel’s cheeks. “No! You don’t go yet. You come see my castle.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Cas.” Sam cut the name sharply through the sea breeze. Dean was several feet away, studiously working on his sand castle, his face lighting up each time he lifted the bucket to a flawless sand tower. Sam took the time to press Castiel for information. “What did you want to tell me? What was so important that you zapped yourself into the middle of the ocean?”

Castiel’s attention was fixed on Dean. Fitting, since the little boy was his reason for appearing on this stretch of beach. “I wanted to check in on Dean.” He peeled his gaze away from the child in question to look at Sam. “And you.”

Sam shrugged. “We’re fine, Cas. Besides the obvious.” He gestured to Dean’s small form.

Castiel sat on Dean’s beach towel, inches from Sam, mimicking the Winchester’s relaxed posture. “He does seem to be happy. And you are adjusting quite well.”

Sam silently agreed with him. It had been a bit of a surprise at first how easily he had adapted to having little Dean in his life. Sam tried to explain. “Dean grew up taking care of me.” Sam tipped his face to the sun, able to let his watchful eye wander a bit since Castiel was near. “Every day, he made sure I got fed, made sure I learned, made sure I felt safe.” He inhaled the fresh ocean air, and let his body loosen in the warm September sunshine. “Our childhood sure wasn’t soccer practices and birthday parties. Dean did everything he could to make sure I grew up right.” He peered at Castiel through his sunglasses. “I feel like maybe this is my chance to make it up to him, you know?”

Cas was silent for a moment. “Sam,” he began again. “When you were three years old, did you know that monsters existed?”

Sam sat up warily. “I don’t know. It seems like this life has been all I’ve ever known.” His brows knit together as he tried to remember. “I’m not sure. Maybe not quite that young. Dean protected me as best he could, so it’s likely I didn’t know about it just yet at that age.” His skin prickled, and he didn’t miss the way Castiel had yet to take his eyes off of Dean. “I probably didn’t know the supernatural world existed at age three. Why?”

Castiel swung those piercing blue eyes towards Sam. “Because I am afraid Dean soon might.”

 

“No,” Sam denied an hour later over dinner. He had his hands full trying to keep Dean from making a complete mess of the chicken and pasta he and Sam were sharing. “That’s impossible. The demon didn’t come after me until Dean was four. Even then, he wouldn’t have fully understood the new lifestyle that our Dad jumped into. He’s only three now; he…” Sam looked at his brother, who was hanging dangling noodles high above his mouth and catching them messily with his tongue. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t know yet.” Sam had wondered more than once how Dean even knew him, but he was just thankful Dean did, and felt safe with him. He and Dean had always been more connected than most siblings. Not to mention that Sam had learned early on that the supernatural world works in mysterious ways.

He and Castiel were continuing the conversation that had gotten interrupted on the beach, thanks to a couple of girls who had tried to hit on an incredibly oblivious Cas. Once Castiel’s confusion and Sam’s gentle prodding had shooed them away, Dean had wandered back over to them demanding food and rave reviews of his sand castle, so Sam had to put his questions for Cas on hold.

“What are you really getting at, Cas?”

Sam now tried to stay vague and avoid words like ‘monsters’ and ‘scared’ while questioning Castiel, in case Dean was listening to their conversation. Food always seemed to provide an adequate distraction but one never knew with Dean.

Cas pursed his lips and looked between Sam and Dean. Waving both hands over Dean’s ears, he said quickly, “I am afraid that his adult memories will soon start to seep into his child mind. That he will lose the innocence that this age provides for him due to the memories that will slowly start to invade his subconscious.”

Dean seemed locked in a daze, robotically eating his pasta and not looking at either man sitting next to him.

Sam leaned forward. “You mean like. He will remember hunting? He’ll remember killing?” Sam looked horrified. “He’ll remember Hell?”

Cas shook his head helplessly. “I do not believe that these images will be sharp in his mind, or that he will recall with any clarity any specific memories. He is not developed enough for that. I worry however that his mind may become clouded at times, with hints of adult memories trying to form inside his brain. I do not think he will cultivate images in any substantial form enough to really remember; I only worry that he may see things that are not common to the average three year old.” He cast an imploring look at Sam. “He may be triggered, Sam, or fall into these hazy memories while his defenses are lowered, for instance, in sleep.” He started to shuffle out of the booth. “I only wanted you to be prepared.”

Sam grabbed onto his arm. “Wait. Can’t you just,” he waved a hand. “Use your grace to help him sleep peacefully?” He looked at Dean. “And don’t you dare leave before pulling him out of whatever trance that is.”

Castiel ran a hand over Dean’s ears, and Dean snapped back into restless childish motion, eating messily and grinning at Sam. “Share my foods, Sammy.”

Sam forced out a laugh. “I will, bud. Thank you.” He picked up his fork, more for Dean’s sake than from any real interest in eating. He looked back up at Castiel. “Cas. Can you help or not?”

Dean craned his head upward. “Cas leaving?”

“For now, Dean.” Castiel gently lowered Sam’s hand from where it still gripped his arm. “I will do what I can, Sam. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Sam said uneasily. “Sure.”

 

Sam didn’t get much sleep that night. He held Dean close as the child fell asleep, Castiel’s earlier words bouncing around nervously in his head.

But Dean fell asleep easily, and stayed that way just fine, and Sam finally started to doze off somewhere around three am.

When he slept he dreamt of the ocean; of his brother and himself, and of an angel that watched over them both.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have fun at the pool. Cas stops by, and maybe Sam isn't as eager to say goodbye to Little Dean as he may have thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters tonight, woo! Thanks for reading :) Enjoy!

The sleep Sam had gotten had been peaceful, but he hadn’t gotten much of it, so he was loathe to wake up the next morning when the early sun leaked through the blinds. Responsibility niggled in the back of his mind, and he remembered that he had a young charge to take care of, but he could feel Dean’s little body still warm against his. Sam was still so tired, and he let sleep pull him under once more.

 

Sam woke about an hour later, feeling much more refreshed that he had at dawn. He was slow to come awake, wanting to savor the relief of sleep, the comfort of the motel bed, the tickling feeling on his stomach.

Wait, what? Sam braced himself on an elbow and raised his head. He rubbed sleep from his eyes with the fingers of his other hand, and peered down his torso to see what was causing the light pressure on his midsection.

Dean was sprawled on his tummy perpendicular to Sam on the bed, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth while he colored in one of the books Sam had gotten him. Said book was spread open across Sam’s stomach, Dean using it as a flat surface for his coloring.

Sam slowly reached for his phone and flipped to his camera app, silently snapping a picture before Dean spotted him.  He smiled and set his phone back on the nightstand, settling back to watch Dean color.

Dean’s head snapped up to look at Sam when he heard the device hit the table, and a smile spread across his little face.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam said.

“Hi, Sammy!” Dean replied sweetly.

Then Dean promptly ignored him again to switch colors and continue his masterpiece.

 

“You want to go to the beach again today, Dean?” Sam sat at the little table in the hotel room with Dean on his lap, sharing a big bowl of dry cheerios. He grabbed a handful and tipped his head back to shovel the cereal into his mouth.

“No, Sammy. I wanna…I wanna…” Dean hopped off Sam’s lap and pointed out the hotel window, where they had a view of the beautiful hotel pool, big and blue, with a slick metal water slide near the deep end. “I wanna go on nat!”

Sam got up and followed Dean to see what he was looking at, and raised his eyebrows when he saw the poolside slide. “Huh.” Damn. Sam kind of wanted to go on it too.  His mouth turned up. “That looks awesome, Dean. Finish your breakfast and drink all that water and we will go.” Sam didn’t want Dean getting dehydrated with all this time in the sun.

Dean scrambled back to the table, stopping just short of climbing on to the chair. He turned back and looked at Sam.

Sam looked at him. “What?”

Dean pointed to the chair.

Sam gave him a questioning glance. Dean could climb onto the chair; Sam had seen him do it.

Dean pointed to the chair again. “Sammy!”  Dean did everything but stomp his foot.

Realization dawned on Sam, and damn this kid was going to turn Sam into a complete girl if he didn’t stop being so damn adorable. “Oh. I see. Okay, okay, I’m coming. Should probably teach you some manners,” Sam muttered. Sam had barely sat his butt back down onto the chair and Dean was hoisting himself into Sam’s lap, where he dug his little fist into the Cheerio pile again. Sam held Dean steady with a hand against Dean’s belly.

Sam pulled Dean’s cup of water closer. “Drink more water, Dean. It’s really warm out.”

Dean held the cup in two hands, covering the entire bottom half of his face as he tipped it back to drink from it. He watched Sam grab another handful of cereal and smiled widely. “Sammy’s handful is so big!”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, bud, I’m all grown up.”

Dean reached for his own handful, catching only ten or so Cheerios. “Dean handful small.” He held it out to show Sam, which made him drop about half of them.

“You’re making a mess, Dean.” Sam picked the fallen Cheerios off his sleep pants with his right hand. He looked up when he felt Dean place his little hand on top of Sam’s where it rested on Dean’s tummy.

Dean tried to place his hand in the center of Sam’s, his palm to the back of Sam’s hand, splaying his short fingers as wide as he could to try to reach Sam’s.  “Sammy’s hand big. Dean’s hand small.”  Dean craned his head around to grin at Sam.

Sam kissed him on the nose. “Yeah, De. Big and small. Good job.” Man, Sam wished he had his camera in reach again. “You know what grown-up hands can do?” Sam smirked. Dean shook his head.

Sam wiggled his fingers rapidly against Dean’s belly, poking his sides. “They can tickle!”

“SAMMY!” Dean shrieked, dropping all his Cheerios. He put his hands on Sam’s arm and tried to push it away while laughing hysterically. “Sammy! St-st-stop! No tickling!”

Sam laughed at Dean’s giggles, and brought his other hand up to wrap around Dean’s middle. He couldn’t remember the last time adult Dean laughed, let alone if he ever got to hear child Dean honest to God _giggle._ “Sam-Sammy!” Dean screamed with laughter and wiggled on Sam’s lap, trying to escape Sam’s tickling fingers.  “SAMMY, GONNA PEE!”

Sam stopped abruptly and set Dean on the floor. “Not on my lap, you’re not!” Sam gave Dean a small push towards the bathroom, both of them still trying to catch their breath after laughing. “Sorry, De.”  But for making Dean laugh like that? No, Sam really wasn’t.

Sam changed into his swimsuit while Dean was in the bathroom, and got Dean changed when he came out.  Sam grabbed the sunscreen and motioned to Dean. “Come here, De. Let’s get you covered and then we can go to the pool.” He knelt down so he could lather Dean up.

Dean eyed Sam warily and bent forward a little, protecting his stomach with his hands. He pointed to Sam. “No tickling!”

Sam held up his hands. “No tickling, I promise.”

Dean ran towards Sam and threw his arms around Sam’s neck, then allowed his brother to cover him in sunscreen.

 

Sam squinted against the sun, tilting his head up to where Dean sat perched at the top of the water slide. Dean had climbed the ladder to the top excitedly, but was now taking his time at the top.

“Come on, Dean! Go for it!” Sam stood in the water at the bottom of the slide.

“IT’S REALLY HIGH!” Dean called down to him.  Sam smiled. It was a simple metal water slide, with a ladder to the top and enough water running down it to make for a smooth ride. He would guess it about ten feet high, but for a three year old looking down it probably looked three times that.

“You got it, Dean. I’m right down here to catch you!"  Dean was an okay swimmer, as okay as you could be at three. He could certainly keep himself afloat. Sam didn’t even think it was the water that was making Dean nervous, just the height of the slide. It felt odd to be the one encouraging Dean to make his way down something as simple as a waterslide- Dean, who wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything, who had grown up to have a badass stare and balls of steel.  Sam was really starting to enjoy these days of childhood that he got to spend with his little, older, brother.

Sam reached his arms out. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Count of three, ready?”

“Sammy!” Dean rocked back and forth, his hands still gripping the sides of the slide.

Sam counted. “One, two, three!”

Sam wasn’t sure that was going to work, but on the number three, Dean lifted his hands from the rails and let his body sail down the slide.  Sam watched him fly, and caught his hands under Dean’s armpits the second Dean hit the water.

Dean came up sputtering, and smiling wide. “Did you see? Sammy, did you see me?” Dean ran his hands down his face to wipe the water out of his eyes.

“Of course I did, silly. I caught ya, didn’t I?”

Dean wiggled towards the wall of the pool. “Again!”

Sam lifted him out of the water. “Go for it. No running!” The smile that spread across his face as he watched Dean eagerly climb the slide’s ladder again rivaled Dean’s in brightness.

 

Sam was reclined in one of the poolside chairs while Dean napped on the lounger next to him. Dean’s chair was in the shade of a big pool umbrella, and he was curled up on top of Sam’s towel, Dean’s towel acting as a light blanket.  Sam kept his chair in the sun, enjoying the warmth on his skin.

He kept Dean in his peripheral vision as he relaxed and read by the pool. He probably should get up and take Dean to get some lunch, but the kid was zonked out from his morning at the pool, and Sam didn’t want to wake him up quite yet. It had almost been an hour; Sam would wake him then.

Sam saw a blur of black and beige out of the corner of his eye. Without taking his eyes off his page, he said casually, “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel looked at the smattering of people in the pool area. “It appears I am overdressed again.”

Sam shot up and darted his hand out. “Don’t…don’t change clothes. You’re fine.” The last thing he needed to explain to hotel management was a crazy grown ass man standing around the pool naked.

“How is Dean?”

Sam took in his brother’s sleeping form, barely resisting the urge to touch him. “He’s fine, Cas. He’s awesome, actually.” He looked at Castiel with a puzzled expression.

Cas cocked his head. “What is it?”

Sam lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, it’s almost weird how easily Dean has slipped into just being this little kid, you know? Like he knows me, he didn’t know you but now I think he does, or at least knows you’re his friend. I don’t mean to rock the boat, but he’s just.” Sam lifted his hands helplessly. “He’s fine. And I mean, isn’t that weird?”

Castiel sat down on Sam’s lounger, Sam barely moving his legs in time to make room for the angel. No wonder Dean constantly said Cas had no concept of personal space. “Have a seat, Cas,” Sam said sardonically.

Castiel ignored him. “Perhaps this is not a bad thing for Dean.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “What?”

Castiel looked at Dean where he was napping peacefully. “Perhaps this is not a curse. Maybe it’s a blessing. A reprieve.”

Sam tucked his legs and sat up, planting his feet on the floor to sit beside Cas. “Are you saying that this witch did Dean a favor? Cas, we were working a case. We wasted her friends. Why would she want to help?”

Castiel shook his head. “You misunderstand. I do not mean she did Dean a favor. I meant that perhaps we are looking at this spell as a bad thing, when maybe…”

“When maybe it gives Dean something he never had.” Sam finished quietly.

Cas wasn’t exactly studied in casual human gestures, but Sam could swear the angel just gave Sam a gentle nudge. “And you as well, Sam.”

Sam swallowed. “A chance to take care of Dean like he took care of me.”

Castiel’s blue eyes bore into his. “And a chance for Dean to be lifted of the enormous burden he carries as a full grown Winchester.”

Sam looked at his feet. He felt that nudge again. “You too, Sam. Azazel is dead. The apocalypse was averted. Maybe this is the universe’s way of giving you both a break before…well, before whatever is to happen next.”

Sam’s mouth quirked up. “Isn’t that a bit speculative for an angel?”

Castiel’s smile was warm. “It’s a theory from a friend.”  He stood. “I will continue looking for an answer, and for a reversal.”

Sam reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand. “Maybe, uh.” He glanced over at Dean, then looked up at Cas. “Maybe take your time.”

Castiel nodded, and took a quick look around before vanishing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really doesn't follow any specific timeline, although it is after Dean spent time in Hell. I am being pretty loose with canonical events, since I am choosing to focus more on Sam's reversed brother role and Little Dean fluff than worrying about being too strict with timeline. Thanks for rolling with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick, sleepy fluff chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas keeps sneaking his way into this story, sheesh. Sorry so short, I miss writing LIttle Dean! so busy at work. just some sleepy fluff for you. indulgence because I could totally go for some Sam Cas cuddles

“What are you doin’, Sammy?” Dean lay in the hotel bed, covers pulled up to his chin. His feet made little tents halfway down the bed, and his eyes were wide and fixed on Sam.

Sam shook the last of the salt along the line of the door. He was getting lax in his safety precautions; this was the last canister of salt left in the trunk. He made a mental note to pick up more tomorrow, thanking the fact that he had already done the windows. Dean had been sleeping just fine, and although Sam had his guard up he hadn’t had anything to worry about in the week that Dean had been little.

Still though. If a Winchester knew anything, it was better to be safe than sorry.

“It’s a bedtime ritual that you-that my dad taught me.” Sam told Dean. He shook the last of the salt out and tossed the empty can in the trash. He walked over and sat down on the bed next to Dean. Maybe he could explain in a way that would help Dean sleep, like any normal kid. Sam ran a hand over Dean’s hair and said, “It keeps the monsters out.”

Dean studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Good thinking, Sammy.” He settled against his pillow. “You sweep wiv me?”

Sam smiled. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and get ready for bed, and I’ll come sleep with you. After I call Cas.”

Dean perked up. “I talk to Cas too!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No, time for you to sleep, De.” Sam didn’t need Dean overhearing a conversation about potential nightmares and memories of Hell.

Dean stuck his chin out. “No, I talk to Cas!”

Damn, Sam thought. Shouldn’t have even mentioned the angel’s name. “Fine. I’ll call Cas now so you can say goodnight, and then you go to sleep and I’ll get ready for bed after.”

Dean smiled. “’Kay, Sammy. You call Cas now.”

Sam swiped open his phone, and hadn’t even hit Castiel’s number when the angel appeared before him.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Castell!” Dean squealed. He threw off his covers and reached for the angel.

Cas caught Dean before he tumbled out of bed. “Hello, Dean.”

Sam blinked, the phone still lit up in his hand. “Cas? What-“

“You and Dean saying my name repeatedly has a way of breaking through angel radio, Sam.” Cas explained. Sam moved his head in understanding, watching the way Dean clung to Castiel’s arm.

“You lay wiv me until Sammy sweeps, Castell.” Dean ordered.

Castiel appealed to Sam. “I do not understand.”

Sam held up his hands helplessly. “I told him I had to get ready for bed and call you before I could lay down with him.”

Castiel cocked his head and looked at Sam’s phone, still lying listlessly in Sam’s hand. “You do not need to call me, Sam. I am right here.”

Sam barely kept from rolling his eyes again. “Yeah. Got that.” Sam headed for the bathroom, leaving Cas on Dean duty. “Just lie down next to him and chat awhile.” He shut the bathroom door behind him.

Castiel glanced down at Dean, who was clutching the sleeve of Cas’s trenchcoat as he crawled back in bed. Cas sat gingerly beside him, patting Dean on the arm. “Go…go to sleep now, Dean.”

Dean tugged on Cas’s sleeve with surprising strength for a toddler. “No, Cas. Lay down.” He moved over, leaving it clear where he expected Castiel to be.

Cas glanced down at his shoes, and toed them off before awkwardly lying down next to Dean, on top of the covers.

“No!” Dean chided. He pulled at the sheets trapped underneath Castiel’s body so the angel was no longer on top of them and scooted closer to Cas. “We cuddle. Like this.” Dean pulled Castiel’s arm so it wrapped around his torso, and wiggled his butt against Cas’s waist so he was securely tucked against Castiel. “Now we sweeps.”

Cas swallowed, and curled his large hand around this smaller, much more open version of the Dean Winchester he knew. “Okay, Dean. Now we sleep.” His fingers brushed through Dean’s short hair, and Cas found himself humming an age old tune to soothe the child as he watched Dean’s eyes get heavy. Cas snapped his fingers to kill the bedside lamp, figuring the moonlight flooding through the window would provide adequate light for Sam to make his way to bed.

 

“Cas, I wanted to ask you-oh.” Sam walked out of the bathroom just to stop short when he saw Castiel curled around Dean in bed, Dean’s breathing heavy and even.

Cas raised his head and looked over his shoulder at Sam. “He’s sleeping,” Cas explained unnecessarily. “What is it you wished to ask?”

Sam swallowed the lump that had suddenly invaded his throat. “Uh, nothing. It can wait.” He shed his shirt so that he could sleep in just his running shorts and walked over to the other side of the bed, sliding in carefully next to Dean.  Sam watched his brother sleep, and it hit him just how tiny Dean looked, lying in the big hotel bed between Sam and Castiel.

Sam shifted, his legs brushing against cool sheets as he got more comfortable, sliding one arm underneath the pillow that cradled Dean’s head.  “Uh, Cas, I’ve got him. I mean, you don’t have to stay.” Surely Castiel had more important things to do than snuggle overnight with a three year old.  “We can talk another time.” But even as he said it, Sam kind of hoped that Cas wouldn’t listen.

Lying in bed with his brother, and the angel that had saved their asses more than once, wasn’t really somewhere Sam ever thought he would be. The peacefulness of it all was so calm and comforting that it almost unnerved Sam. Even though he had whispered to Cas, Sam’s voice had felt loud and nervous, bouncing off the hotel room walls like a rubber ball, suspended in midair, never again to be retrieved.

Sam loved taking care of Dean, loved being his guardian and protector. But lying there in the dark with Castiel, so close he could touch their fingertips together over Dean’s hip if he was so inclined, made Sam glad that he wasn’t completely alone in taking care of his brother.

“We can talk now,” Castiel said logically. He lowered his voice, and continued to watch Dean sleep, but made no move to leave. “Or we can talk another time.”

“Yeah,” Sam exhaled, cuddling Dean closer without moving his brother away from Castiel. His own eyelids started to droop, and perhaps it was childish but Sam felt himself sliding into a comforting sleep, knowing an angel was there to watch them both. “Another time.” He agreed sleepily, secure in the knowledge that choosing sleep now and conversation later didn’t equate to Castiel leaving. He pressed a sleepy kiss to Dean’s forehead and let his own relax into his pillow.

Slumber pulled him under fast,  so when Sam felt Castiel’s fingertips brush his as he fell asleep, he was sure it was just his subconscious recalling his earlier thought on proximity to the angel.

“Another time,” Castiel promised. “Sleep well, Sam Winchester.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Cas at the playground. Dean gets an unsolicited reaction to what a family *should* look like from another child
> 
> Randy, however, started laughing. “You do!” He pointed at Sam and Cas, who were now walking over to join Dean. “You have two daddies and no mommy!”

Sam watched Dean run across the metal chain bridge of the local playground, sunglasses shielding his face from the late summer sun while still allowing him a good view of his brother. Dean ran along the length of the hanging chainlinks, giggling and swaying in the wind. Sam smiled as he watched Dean run back and forth, making the chainlink hammock sway in the wind, only to jump in the middle, his body shaking and swinging with the playground contraption.

Dean looked over at Sam and grinned. Sam lifted up a hand to wave at Dean, and smiled when Dean went right back to bouncing.

Dean Winchester, giddy out of his mind on a playground.

Life was good.

Sam tensed when another little boy, slightly bigger than Dean, stepped onto the hanging metal bridge. Dean studied him for a moment, and Sam could see their mouths move. The other boy levered his heels up and down to set the bridge swaying again, and Sam relaxed when Dean smiled at the boy and mimicked his movements. The two boys held onto the railing and bounced, their bodies moving with the motion of the chained hammock, their eyes and mouths wide in amusement.

Sam felt a quick pick up in the wind right next to him, and didn’t even flinch when another form joined him on the bench. “Hey, Cas.”

“Sam.” This bench was not built for two full grown men, especially when one aforementioned man had no concept of personal space. Castiel’s thigh pressed right up against Sam’s as the angel leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Dean seems quite carefree today.”

“Yeah.” Sam coughed. “It was too nice to stay in our hotel room.” The brothers had departed the Carolina coast the day before, and on the way to Baltimore so Sam could take Dean to the city’s famous aquarium, Sam had made a stop somewhere in Virginia. There was no sense in rushing the driving, no sense in keeping Dean cooped up just to reach their next destination. Dean had gotten enough of that from John growing up.

“He has made a friend.” Castiel observed.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Seems that way.” Sam was used to having adult Dean around as a buffer between him and Cas; okay, yeah, he was getting used to the angel, maybe even making friends with him in his own way, but Sam had always felt like he came in second when it came to Cas. He usually let Dean take the lead and do the talking.

But now that Dean was little, Cas was popping up more and more, and Sam didn’t kid himself into thinking it was for any other reason but concern for this smaller version of Dean.

Still though, without adult Dean, or even little Dean, in between them, Sam felt himself searching the air for something, anything, to say.  “Why are you here, Cas?” It came out sharper than intended.

Cas remained unfazed. He was silent for a long moment, watching Dean while Sam watched Cas. “Dean is smaller. More vulnerable.” He made a teepee out of his long fingers, pressing the tips to his chin. “I suppose it causes me to be more vigilant.”

Sam prickled. He was doing a damn fine job of looking out for Dean, thank you very much. “Dean’s fine.” He said shortly. He looked at his brother. Dean and the other child had made their way to the swings, but Dean couldn’t quite reach the ground, his little legs pumping and skipping across the dirt, trying to find purchase to push off.

Before Sam could even stand up, Castiel had disappeared from his side. He was behind Dean in an instant, giving the little boy a push.

“Cas!” Dean’s face lit up. He turned to the other boy. “This is Castell,” Dean said proudly. “He’s an angel.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Higher, Cas! Push me higher!”

Sam watched Castiel push Dean on the swings, looking incredibly out of place in his tie and trenchcoat standing in the middle of a sawdust covered playground. Sam’s mouth turned up in spite of his earlier defensiveness and discomfort, and he waved at Dean again.

“SAMMY!” Dean yelled. “Watch me, Sammy!”

“I see you, Dean!” Sam called back. He relaxed back against the bench, watching his little brother soar into the sky with the help of an angel who smiled sheepishly back at him.

 

Cas stood behind Dean, keeping an eye on the little boy.

And his bigger, taller, younger brother. Castiel shuffled his feet and concentrated on the task at hand.

Dean’s shouts pulled Castiel out of his reverie. Dean gripped the handles of the swing, legs pumping. “Higher, Cas!” He yelled.

Cas’s wrist turned surreptitiously at his side, and Dean swung higher, higher into the air yet with no danger of falling. Castiel traded glances between Dean, then Sam, and back again as he listened to Dean chatter to the other boy.

“Cas is my angel.” Dean bragged.

The other boy kicked his legs back and forth, mirroring Dean’s movements on the swing, if not quite reaching his height. “Angels aren’t real.”

“Are too!” Dean tried to look over his shoulder while being propelled through the air. “Right Cas?”

“Just enjoy the swing, Dean.” Castiel said distractedly, looking over at Sam.

“What’s your name?” The little boy asked Dean. “I’m Josh.”

Dean ducked his head and kept swinging. “Dean.” He said quietly, suddenly shy. Josh said something to make Dean laugh, and just like that Dean’s face opened up once more.

While Dean and his new friend chattered away, Sam stood up to join Dean and Cas. The other boy’s eyes widened. “Woah. He’s really tall.”

Dean beamed. “My Sammy is the tallest person ever.  HI SAMMY!” Dean kicked his legs excitedly.

Cas turned his wrist in the reverse direction, and Dean’s swing started to slow down.

“Hey, buddy. You make a friend?” Sam grinned at Dean, crouching down and reaching out his arms when Dean jumped off the swing. Dean jumped into them, his little body heaving up and down, out of breath.

“Yeah. Josh.”  Dean pointed to the other boy and placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders.  “We go home now?”

Another boy, pre-teen if Sam had to guess, came strutting over to the swings. “Come on, nerd. Time to go.” He said to Dean’s new friend.

“I’m still playing, Randy. Five more minutes.” The little boy pleaded.

“Looks like it’s time for everyone to go home,” Sam smiled at the boys. He set Dean down and whipped his head back towards the bench he had been occupying. “Oops. Forgot my coat. Dean, stay here with Cas.”

Cas waved Sam off. “I will collect your coat.” Sam turned to follow him. “Cas, you don’t...” Sam laughed. “You don’t need to get my coat.” Sam’s heart lifted a little, and he grinned through the hair falling into his eyes as he hurried to catch up to Cas.

Dean looked at Josh. “You come home and play wiv me?”

Randy scoffed. “Come on, Josh.” He said to his brother, tugging on the smaller boy’s arm. “Enough playing with babies. Let’s go.”

“I’m not a baby!” Dean shouted at him.

“You sure look like a baby. Where is your mommy, _baby_?” the boy taunted. “Or are you just here with that dork in a trenchcoat?”

“Cas is my angel,” Dean said stubbornly. “And my Sammy is over dere.” He pointed to where Sam and Castiel stood several feet away, Cas gently handing Sam his jacket.

“Where’s your mommy?” Josh asked Dean curiously.

Dean froze. “Ummm.”

The little boy continued, not unkindly. “Do you have two daddies?”

Dean’s lip quivered.

Randy, however, started laughing. “You do!” He pointed at Sam and Cas, who were now walking over to join Dean. “You have two daddies and no mommy!”

Dean’s eyes filled. “Nuh uh! That’s my Sammy!”

Sam heard Dean’s upset voice, and raced over to his brother. He saw the tears threatening to spill over Dean’s cheeks. “What’s going on here?”

Josh gave Dean a gentle smile and patted his arm, whispering something in Dean’s ear before Randy yanked him away.  Ignoring Sam, he glared at Josh. “I said time to go, nerd!”  Randy left the swing set, dragging his poor little brother behind him.

Sam scooped Dean into his arms. “Dean. It’s okay, bud. Come on.” Sam wasn’t sure what had happened, but this other kid was lucky he was a third of Sam’s size or Sam would be pummeling him into the ground right about now for making Dean cry. He cast a pleading look at Cas. If Sam couldn’t punch the kid, at least they could blow his fucking mind by angel zapping their way out of here.

Castiel didn’t get the hint. He blocked Randy’s path, looking squarely down at the smug teenager.. “Perhaps instead of laughing at your peers, you should be befriending them.” He stood to his full height, his eyes glowing with just a hint of blue light. “You never know when the children you torment today may become the adults who save you tomorrow.”

With that, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, and Cas pressed two fingers to Sam’s forehead, leaving the confused teen to stare after them, mouth hanging open as he wondered what the hell he had just seen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean asks Sam why come he has no mommy :( Sam consoles Dean the best he can.

Sam tucked Dean into bed that night with a heavier heart than usual. He couldn’t get Dean to tell him what that punk ass kid had said on the playground to make Dean cry, but Dean’s sadness was making Sam sad too, and the pathetic way Dean curled into his blankets, his little fingers curling into Sam’s pillow, just broke Sam’s heart.

He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand over Dean’s back in soothing circles. “You gonna talk to me, baby? Tell me what that boy said to make you upset?”

Dean sniffled and shook his head. “Wanna go sweep, Sammy.”

Sam sighed. Kids had short term memories, right? Maybe if he just let Dean go to bed, he could wake up in that morning refreshed and renewed.

“Okay, bud.” Sam tucked the blankets up around Dean’s shoulders.  He was just about to tell Dean he would be back right after brushing his teeth when Dean started wailing. “How come I don’t have a mommy?”

Sam’s heart plummeted. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Dean’s bottom lip started shaking, and Sam sat back down, gathering Dean in his arms. “Oh, Dean.”

Dean gazed up at Sam with bright, wet eyes. “I know I have a mommy. She told me angels…she said angels…she…” Dean hiccupped and buried his face into Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy where’s my mommy!”  Dean cried.

“Oh, baby.” Sam’s arms wrapped around Dean, and he rocked back and forth. “Mommy loves you so much.” Sam’s own eyes filled. “So, so much, Dean.”

“You’re not my daddy,” Dean whispered.

Sam shook his head in agreement. “No. No, I’m not.” Sam said gently, still rocking Dean. He held his little brother close, wishing he could absorb every sob and every heartbreaking sound into his own body, so as to take the pain away from Dean.

They stayed there a while, Dean crying himself out onto Sam’s chest, Sam taking just as much comfort from holding Dean in the safe circle of his arms.

Sam finally pulled back, and tilted Dean’s chin up. “I want to tell you something, Dean. Are you ready to listen?”

Dean wiped his eyes and nodded shakily. “S’mmy.”

Sam swallowed, firm in his decision. Dean deserved a happy false truth just as much as Sam owed it to him not to lie. He found some middle ground, and would sow it for all he was worth. “Your mommy- and your Daddy-loved you so much. They still do. They just can’t be with you, even though they want to be. So they sent Cas, you know Cas? They sent Cas to be the angel that watches over you, so you would always know how much they love you and want to keep you safe.” Sam tightened his arms around Dean, trying to push every ounce of love he possessed for Dean into the heart of this little boy. “They can’t be here anymore, but they will never stop loving you, Dean. Ever. And no matter what, you always have me.” Sam kissed Dean’s hair. “You will always have your Sammy,” he promised.

Dean wiped his nose back and forth on Sam’s shirt before slumping against him, his little body exhausted from the emotional day. “You always have me, Sammy.” Dean said in a wobbly voice.

Sam’s throat tightened, and it took him a moment to choke out, “Thanks, Dean.”

Sam didn’t worry about brushing his teeth at that point. He laid down in the soft hotel bed with Dean, cuddling him close as they both fell asleep with heavy eyes, wet cheeks, and the brother that could always see them through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. Just glad to have been able to post two chapters tonight. Work has been crazy, and will be for another two weeks, but I missed Little Dean and Protective Sam so much! thanks for sticking with me


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam helps a friend on a hunt, so Dean goes to a special hunters daycare. He refuses to take a nap, and bonds with his teacher over pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because who wouldn't love the chance to take care of our Little!Dean for a day >_

Two days later, Sam paced their hotel room, talking on his cell with a hunter thirty miles south. “What do you mean, no one else can help?” Sam said into the phone, raking back his hair in frustration. “Well, I can’t come. No. Because, well…” Sam really didn’t want to explain why he couldn’t drop everything to come to another hunter’s aid. Let alone why Dean wasn’t available, either.

Shit. “Wait. There have been how many casualties in the last week?” Sam blew out a breath. “Yeah. I know. Even for us, that’s a big number.” He looked over at Dean, who was kneeling on a hotel chair, blowing bubbles into his chocolate milk, mostly oblivious to Sam’s conversation. “Okay. Okay! I heard you. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow. I just need to make a few calls.”

Sam clicked off his phone and tossed it onto the bed.

“Where we goin’, Sammy?” Dean looked up at Sam, the straw hanging out of his mouth.

“Well, _we_ aren’t going.”  Sam knelt down in front of Dean’s chair. “I have to go help out a friend. But it’s serious adult stuff, and I don’t want you to go. So you can spend the day with Cas tomorrow, and I will be back before you go to bed. Sound good?”

Dean flipped the straw out of his drink, giggling when a few stray drops landed on Sam’s face. “’Kay, Sammy.” He blew into the straw, watching as the small wind made Sam’s hair dance across his forehead. “You got milk in yo hair, Sammy.”

“No, _you_ got milk in my hair,” Sam countered, smiling. He picked Dean up like a football. “Gonna take you out with the trash.”

“No!” Dean screamed and giggled, legs kicking. “I no trash! Put me down!” Sam wiggled his fingers into Dean’s sides and the little boy screamed with laughter. Sam held Dean in one arm and picked up his phone again in the other. “Hey, Cas? Yeah. Need your help tomorrow, buddy.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sam. I cannot watch Dean tomorrow.” Castiel’s voice was muffled over the phone; there was so much noise in the background that Sam had to set Dean down so he could plug his other ear to better hear Cas.

“What? Cas, it’s just for a day, please. There is a crazy shifter roaming town a few miles south of here, and-“

“All Hell has broken loose in Heaven, Sam. I am rounding up the garrison as we speak. If we cannot get this situation under control, there is no telling what may happen.”

Sam cursed. “What am I supposed to do with Dean?”

He heard a crash, then a muttered oath from Cas. “What do you humans call them? Baby sitters?”

Sam paused. “Come again?”

“A baby sitter, Sam. Find Dean a baby sitter.”

 

And that’s how Sam found himself at the doorstep of Little Angels Academy the next morning, a very skeptical Dean in his arms and a frantic energy running through his body. He swore, if this didn’t work, if some freak opened the door, he was turning heel and taking his brother out of here, no second thought. He was already queasy about leaving Dean with a stranger, no matter how good of an endorsement she got from Bobby.

“She’s great, Sam. The daughter of an old hunting buddy of mine. Lost her daddy and her brother four years back. Nasty hunt. Good men. Quit her teaching job, poor girl. No one understood the depth of her grief. Lucky for people like us, she opened her own daycare. She’s great with kids, and she will understand your, uh, unusual background.” Bobby had assured Sam.

Of course, Sam hadn’t been quite honest about whom he needed a baby sitter for. Like hell he was going to tell Bobby that the child in question was Dean himself. He claimed he was asking on behalf of a hunter friend that needed some childcare for a few days.  Hence Bobby’s next words.

“Oh, and Sam? If Dean goes with you to drop off your friend’s kid, tell him to keep his filthy hands off her. She’s a good girl, and she don’t need that randy boy corruptin’ her. You got me?”

Sam had lied through his gorgeous white teeth. “Got it, Bobby. Thanks.”

So there Sam was, standing on the porch steps of a cute little blue and yellow house, with a drawing of three stick figure children on the front door and a finger painted mailbox nailed to the porch wall.

“Where is dis, Sammy? No hotel?” Dean questioned. He played with Sam’s hair, rearranging Sam’s bangs across his forehead. Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that Dean didn’t recognize somewhere that wasn’t a hotel as being abnormal.

“You are going to stay with a friend of mine, today, Dean. She’s real nice.” _She had better be, Bobby,_ Sam thought.

“Nope.” Dean shook his head easily. “Wanna stay wiv you.”

Sam was about to argue, but just then the door opened and a pretty brunette in slim jeans and a flowy emerald green blouse smiled warmly at the two boys. “Hi there!”  Sam was momentarily distracted by the sheer genuineness and wattage of her smile, but luckily before he could stutter and make a fool out of himself, she continued, her bright chocolate eyes fixed on Dean. “You must be Dean! You’re just in time.” She started to reach for Dean, but stopped and just lightly patted his arm. “Hey, can you help me with something? I’m making a pie for snack time later today. But I need an expert taste tester. What do you say, Dean? Can you help me?”

Dean stared at her for a moment, wide eyed, listening to every word. He scrambled out of Sam’s arms, reaching for his new best friend. “I hewp you! I taste pie!”

Sam handed his brother over before he spilled onto the porch in between them. The young woman took Dean in her expert arms, perching him on her hip like he weighed little more than a feather. She tickled his tummy, and looked at Sam. “I’m Kiki. You’re Sam?”

Sam just looked at the way Dean was gazing at her in blind adoration, and nodded dumbly.

“I’m Dean!”  Dean beamed up at her.

“Hi, Dean. I’m Miss Kiki.” She looked at Sam, seemingly surprised that he hadn’t spoken yet.

“Kiki.” Sam repeated. “Sam.”  He shook his head. “Uh, yeah. And that’s Dean. You already know that. Okay then.” He wiped his palms on his jeans. “Sorry. I’m really nervous to leave my brother, uh, he hasn’t spent much time away from me, and I’m, uh-“

She smiled at him again. “It’s okay, Sam. New parent jitters. I totally get it. We will be just fine, won’t we, Dean.”

Dean nodded. ”Pie!”

Sam laughed. “Man, you got him in one. He loves dessert, pie especially.”

“Well then, Dean.” Kiki swung him up in the air, then cuddled him again. “You and I are gonna do just fine.”

“Okay then,” Sam said again. He bent down to kiss Dean’s hair. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok bud?”

Dean ignored him, pointing to the superhero on his tee shirt. “I wike Flash. You have the Flash, Miz Keekee?”

The young woman smiled at Sam over top of Dean’s head, and waved him off. “I _love_ the Flash, Dean! I even have Flash action figures that good little boys who are great helpers get to play with.”

“I pway with them!” Dean exclaimed. He looked up at his new baby sitter demurely. “If you…if you let me, Miz KeeKee.”

He looked at her from beneath his lashes and Sam saw the moment she fell. Yep, even at three, Dean was a lady killer. Sam just hoped she could handle him for an entire day. “Look, I uh, my job has odd hours, and it may be late-“

Kiki cut him off. She kept a hold of Dean and lowered the right hip of her waistband, showing Sam a small anti-possession tattoo inked into her skin just below her hipbone. “Relax, Sam. I understand.” She gave him a meaningful glance, and a reassuring smile. “You have the most adorable brother ever. I will keep him here as long as you need.” She nuzzled Dean’s neck, in between his shoulder and his chin. “In fact, I may just keep him.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Be my guest,” he joked. “Alright. I got your info from Bobby, and texted you my name and cell number. Call if you need anything, okay? Anything.” He backed off of the porch.

“Bye, Sammy!” Dean waved.

Sam watched him disappear into the cute little house with the pretty Miss Kiki. “Bye, baby,” he whispered.

 

“Miz Keekee!”

“Inside voice, Dean,” Kiki gently admonished. She was seated, cross legged, in a circle with Dean and the other four kids at Little Angels that day. “What would you like to tell me?”

“You have pwetty hair.” Dean patted her head. “Wike Sammy’s.”

Kiki held in a laugh. “Thank you, Dean. That’s a very sweet thing to say.” She ruffled his hair. “I think you have very pretty eyes.”

“Tank you.”

“Okay!” Miss Kiki clapped her hands together. “Who knows the game Duck, Duck, Goose?”

 

Five hours, a hectic lunchtime, and four exhausted kids later, Miss Kiki laid out five blankets for the kids, and read them a story to wind them down for an afternoon nap. Six pages in, the kids were down for the count.

Except Dean. He was having none of it.

“It’s naptime, Dean,” Miss Kiki explained gently. “Then we will wake up and have a snack, and more play time. What do you say?”

“No nap. Sammy and I pway after lunch, Miz Keekee.” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m not sweepy.”

Kiki eyed Dean, taking measure of this new kid. Sam hadn’t really laid out any specific rules or instructions, and she had years of practice in dealing with tired kids, and Dean was not showing any signs of being one. “Okay, Dean.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, she held out a hand, and he took it. “Come into the kitchen. I told you I needed a helper.”

 

“Like dis?” Dean held a plastic cup, overflowing with white sugar crystals, in his small, unsteady hand.

“Just like that, Dean! Good job!” Miss Kiki stood behind Dean where he was standing on a chair so he could reach the counter top. “But let’s level it off, like this.” She showed him how to make the cup even, and guided his hand over the bowl where she let him dump it out.

“I do it!” Dean grinned. “Wike a sand castle.”

“How is this like a sand castle, Dean?” Kiki continued to measure out ingredients for her famous apple pie bites, a favorite snack of the kids’.

“Sammy show me how to put sand in a bucket. Den you dump it out.” Dean overturned an imaginary bucket in his hands. “And it comes out. Wike sugar.”

“That’s a very smart comparison, Dean!” Kiki praised. “Does Sammy bake with you, too?”

Dean screwed up his face as he thought. “No. But he shows me lots of fings.”

“Sammy sounds pretty cool.” Miss Kiki showed Dean how to spoon the filling onto the flat pieces of dough that she already had lined up on a baking tray.

“Sammy is the bestest.” Dean agreed solemnly. He helped her fill some of the dough slices, but after a while he sunk down to sit forlornly in the chair. “Sammy weft me alone.”

Kiki saw his bottom lip start to quiver, and she swiftly put the treats in the oven to bake. She cast a quick glance into the nap room to check on the other kids, seeing that they were all sleeping soundly.  

Dean sniffled, and looked at her. “I miss my Sammy.”

“I know you do.” Kiki scooped Dean up and took his place in the chair, scooting it back over to the table. “And I bet you love your Sammy very much. He will be back soon, but you know what? He was nice enough to share you with me for the day.” She produced a few pieces of paper and some crayons, so Dean would have something to occupy his mind as she spoke. “Hey, can I tell you a secret?”

Dean picked up a blue crayon, his eyes threatening tears, and nodded. “What secwet?”

Kiki wrapped her arms around this child that had so quickly stolen her heart. “I used to have a Sammy, too.” Her own eyes welled, thinking of the younger brother she had lost. “And I miss him a lot. So your Sammy let me borrow you for a little bit because he said you were such a sweet little monster.”

Dean whipped his head around, mouth turning up in a smile. “I’m not a monster!”

Kiki looked down at him, wide-eyed. “You’re not?” She gasped in exaggerated surprise. “Sammy must have been talking about another Dean.” She looked around the room, behind her shoulder, even lifted Dean up to check under his butt.

Dean giggled and shook his head. “I’m his Dean! Not two Deans. Silly Miz Keekee.”

She put a hand on her chin and mimed thinking very hard. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” She watched his hand move across the paper, eyes dry again.

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean sitting comfortably on her thighs, his feet gently kicking back and forth against her shins. His brow furrowed as he worked, and a smaller, green blot appeared on his piece of paper next to the blue shape he had already drawn. He reached for the red crayon, and scribbled next to the area of green. Dean chatted as he drew. “My Sammy pways wiv me. And sweeps wiv me. And lets me swim and jump on the bed and cwimb him wike pwayground.” He pondered his picture for a moment and picked up green again, drawing a small green circle next to the bigger green shape. He picked up the blue crayon again, and made the blue spot even bigger. “Sammy the stwongest ever.”  Dean drew an orange splotch on the top of the page, which she assumed to be the sun. “Your Sammy pway wiv you?”

Kiki swallowed against a sudden rush of tears. “Yeah, Dean, my Sammy played with me too.” Her brother’s name hadn’t been Sam, but this was an easier comparison for Dean to make. “He used to play hide and seek with me, and tag, and we used to race, and even though he was two years younger than me, he always let me win.” It had been awhile since she had talked about the carefree, summer days she had spent with her brother so many years ago. “Brothers are the best, huh?”

Dean nodded. He whipped his piece of paper off the table. He pointed to the large blue oval. “Dis my Sammy.” He moved his hand to the red figure. “And dis your Sammy.” Dean looked at her, and thrust the paper in front of her face.

“Oh Dean.” A tear spilled over Kiki’s cheek before she could stop it. “I love it. I think my Sammy and your Sammy would have been friends.”

Dean nodded sagely. He knelt on her thigh so he could look at his drawing again. He put his finger on the bigger green circle. “Dat’s you. You wear gween.” Lastly, Dean singled out the small green scribble. “And dat’s me!” He pushed the paper into her hand. “It’s fo you.”

Kiki cleared her throat, and hugged Dean tight. “I love it, Dean. I’m going to keep it forever.” Her heart melted when he threw his arms around her neck and hugged her back.  

Kiki let herself get lost in his sweet little boy scent, with just a hint of masculinity blended in that must be from his older brother. She never let herself play favorites with the many kids that came and went through her door over the years, but she’d be lying to herself if she said that this little boy wasn’t something special.

Dean was a comfortable weight in her lap, and just when she was about to shift, he squirmed away when he heard the oven bell. “Pie!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miz Keekee :) is based on a dear friend of mine. Little!Dean would love her


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always the protector, Little Dean gets himself in a bit of trouble at daycare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this bit just for fun, and for my dear friend. I'm not sure where life will take Little Dean after this, but I hope he continues to speak to me so we can all go along for the ride

_Hey, sorry to bother you, but I can’t help it. How’s my little bro?_

Kiki smiled when she read the text on her phone. Sam seemed like such a sweetheart; she could see why Dean was so attached to him. She fired back a quick response.

_He’s doing great. You weren’t kidding, he really does love pie!_

Sam must have been waiting on her reply. _He really does._

_He misses you. We had a moment of wet eyes, but easily averted with coloring and treats_ _J_

_Thanks, Kiki. Thanks a million. I will let you know when I am on the way to pick him up._

Kiki texted him back one more time before pocketing her phone and waking the kids. _No rush. I got this. Be careful._

Kiki walked into the large playroom, where a few kids were playing with Play-Doh, and Dean and another boy and girl were playing with the action figures. Dean had The Flash in his hand, and was making him zoom around the couch cushions.

Grant , a four year old regular of Little Angels, was playing near Dean with Mollie, a sweet little blond two year old.

“Mollie! You took my GI Joe!” Grant hollered.

Kiki moderated her voice. “There are multiple GI Joes, Grant . You can have one and Mollie can have one.”

Dean hopped his Flash figure into their foray, racing it back and forth between the army men.   Grant made his GI Joe kick over the helpless plastic green army men in his command, while Molly was trying to take her GI Joes’ clothes off. Kiki smiled and left the three of them to play while she checked on the other kids.

“Oh, what a great Play-doh dinner you made, Kelsey!” She exclaimed as she mingled with the other group.

Dean made his Flash doll talk to Grant‘s GI Joe. “Dere’s bad guys over dere! Wanna come hewp me?”

They danced their action figures over to Dean’s epic war scene on the couch cushions. Mollie pushed herself up off her little diapered bottom and toddled over to them. “I hewp!”

Dean made room for her, letting her play in between himself and Grant, chattering away about a battle plan.

Grant abruptly yanked Mollie’s doll out of her hand, placing it beside his own. “No girls play war!”

Mollie started to tear up. “Dat’s mine!”

Grant gave her a hard push, knocking her onto her little butt. “No girls!”

Dean scrunched up his little face. “Hey! No hit Mollie!” He placed himself between Grant and the little girl.

Dean was knocked onto his own butt when Grant shoved him over and shouted, “ _My_ toys!”

And that’s when Miz KeeKee turned around to see little Dean Winchester punching a burly four year old right smack in the face.

 

“Uh oh.” Dean said to himself.  

Miz Keekee would not like hitting. Sammy did not like hitting.

He felt his cheeks get hot, and his tummy jumped a little because he didn’t know what Grant would do to him now.

But you don’t hit girls! That wasn’t nice.

Dean saw Miz Keekee’s eyes go wide from across the room. He didn’t want her to tell Sammy what he had done.

He didn’t want Sammy to be mad at him.

So Dean did the only thing that came to mind.

He ran.

 

“Dean!” Kiki called out. “Dean! Where are you, sweetie?” Her newest little charge was nowhere to be found.

She had turned minutes earlier just in time to see Grant shove Dean, and then she had watched Dean punch Grant right in the face. She couldn’t cross the room fast enough to stop their fight, and before she knew it, her little green-eyed boy had disappeared.

Kiki looked in every corner of the playroom, as well as all the adjacent rooms. Seriously, was this new little guy a ninja? Kiki checked the kitchen, and the pantry where she had stored the leftover apple pie bites, but still no Dean.

Okay. It had been five whole minutes with no sign of the child, and while that really wasn’t that long, her house wasn’t all that big, either. She willed her rapidly speeding heartbeat to slow down, and forced herself to think.

She gated the other children inside the playroom, Grant firmly seated in the naughty chair, and pressed her fingers to her temples. There had to be something she was missing, somewhere else she could check before she called Sam to tell him she had lost his little brother.

Kiki looked around, eyes alighting on the sliding glass door from her living room. The kids rarely went in there, but as fast as Dean had ran, he could have made his way through the other room and outside.

Refusing to think of the worst case scenarios _(tripping and falling, escaping the fenced in yard, oh, God, kidnapping)_ she calmly opened the door and cast a wide glance of her backyard.

No Dean.

 

Dean huddled in on himself when he realized he was standing in Miz Keekee’s backyard.

It looked much bigger now that he was out here alone.

He had to hide. Or else he would get in trouble, and Sammy would be mad.

Dean spotted a cool looking tree house, next to a big sturdy oak tree with lots of branches.

He looked longingly at Miz KeeKee’s home, and then headed for the trees.

 

“Dean!” Kiki called into the trees. “DEAN!”

Okay, she was starting to get nervous now.

“Dean? Where are you, sweetheart?” She paused, listening for any noise. “I’m not mad, baby. I just need you to come back inside, okay?”

Kiki’s heart pounded. This was a bit of a new situation. She was great with kids, dammit, and had never lost a single one.

Dean The Ninja Winchester was not about to ruin her spotless record.

Her eyes narrowed at the old treehouse, perched squarely in the middle of her backyard. It hadn’t been kept up all that well; her brother had built it for her the year before he died, but since she ran her daycare solo, she wasn’t so comfortable letting her charges play in it.

“Gotcha.” She muttered, heading for the treehouse.

 

Okay. Kiki was now in full Serious Freak-Out Mode.

Dean was not in the treehouse. She had climbed up into it just to find it as empty as the day Sawyer had left.

Shit.

Kiki pulled out her phone to make a call that she really, really did not want to make.

“Hey, Sam? It’s Kiki.” Her stomach roiled, her eyes casting across her backyard for any sign of Dean. “We have a problem.”

 

“Cas!” Sam screamed into his phone. “Cas, I swear, pick up the goddamn- Cas! Thank God. Cas, it’s Dean.”

“Sam?” Sam’s eyes closed in relief when he heard the angel finally answer. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Cas, Dean’s gone. He’s missing.”

Cas froze. “What?”

“He’s missing, Cas!” Sam shouted at him. “I left him at a daycare, and he got in trouble, and he ran away, oh God, Cas, he’s out there somewhere, he’s alone, Cas, you have to help me find him, _please-“_

“Sam.” Castiel spoke firmly. “Breathe. Tell me the location of the daycare.”

Sam did, and Castiel closed his eyes and pictured Dean, and in a heartbeat he was gone.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean kept his head ducked down in his arms, cradled against his tucked up knees. He didn’t answer Castiel verbally, but his soft whimper just about broke Castiel’s heart.

“Dean. It’s okay. I will not hurt you.”

Dean had yet to lift his head.

Cas flew up to the thick tree branch that Dean was perched on, extending from a sturdy oak tree just behind another that held a well-worn tree house. Castiel’s lip curled up; it seemed Dean had retained, albeit subconsciously, his skill for subterfuge.

Castiel sat next to Dean on the tree branch, letting his legs hang over the side. Dean was tucked up against the oak’s heavy trunk, his butt nestled in the cradle of the trunk and its thick branch. He really was in no danger of falling, and Castiel was suitably impressed that the small boy had made it this high up.

“Why are you hiding, Dean?” Castiel questioned.

The toes of Dean’s shoes wiggled. “I was bad.”

“What did you do?”

Dean poked his head up just slightly. “I hit Gwant in his stupid face.” His eyes welled up. “But he hit a giwrl! Dat’s not nice.”

“I see.” Castiel inched closer to Dean. “So you were protecting her?”

Dean wiped his eyes and nodded. “He pushed her. Dat’s not nice!” He said again.

“No,” Castiel agreed. “I should say not.”

Dean peered at him, unsure if Cas was going to be his ally or his disciplinarian. “Sammy gon’ be mad.”

Castiel nodded. “Perhaps. But I think he will be more worried if he can’t find you.” Castiel looked down and saw a pretty brunette searching her backyard, calling Dean’s name. “And I think that nice lady is, too.”

Dean sniffled. “Dat’s Miz Keekee. I wike her. I hewp her make pie.”

Castiel watched Dean’s eyes watch Miss Kiki as she walked around her yard. Cas thought of the man he knew Dean Winchester to be, and looked at the little boy that he was now. “Dean, sometimes we have to make choices, and sometimes the right choice isn’t always the easy one.”

Dean squinted at him. “I hit Gwant the wight choice?”

“Uh,” Castiel faltered for a moment. “I will let Sam decide that.” He almost reached for his phone so he could call the other Winchester brother to reassure him, but Dean needed his attention more at the moment. “Right now, Dean, you have two choices. You can remain up here, while Miss Kiki and Sam worry about you, or you can come down with me and admit what you did, perhaps try and defend yourself, and face the possible consequences.”

Dean tangled his fingers together. “What’s con-kences?”

“They are events that may happen after a decision. Like the decision you made to punch a child that shoved a little girl.” Castiel knew the emotion that his human side was fighting to feel was sheer pride, but of course he couldn’t tell Dean that. “But Dean, you will face many decisions in life, and many choices. Some will be hard, harder than one man should ever have to bear. But you are a good ma-you are a good boy, Dean, and your head and your heart will keep you strong.”

Dean wiped his nose on his knee, and spoke softly. “I wanna be stwong wike Sammy.” He started to crawl over to Castiel.

“Oh, Dean.” _Sam’s always wanted to be strong like you_. Cas gave Dean a hug, then whisked them back onto solid ground. He saw the relief wash over Kiki’s face when she saw them, and bent to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Sam and Dean Winchester are the strongest men I have ever known.”

 

“Dean!” Sam scooped up his brother and crushed Dean to his chest. “Don’t you ever do that again! You hear me?” Dean could punch a million bullies for all Sam cared, but going missing even just for ten or twenty minutes had given Sam a heart attack.

“I sowwy, Sammy.” Dean tucked his face into Sam’s neck and wrapped his arms and legs around his big brother’s torso. Sam’s hug and scared voice made Dean start crying again. “He pushed her, Sammy! I sowwy.” Dean sobbed.

“Oh, baby.” Sam cupped the back of Dean’s head. Tears burned behind his closed eyes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Cas had stayed with Dean at Little Angels so that Dean would have someone familiar to wait with while Sam drove like a bat out of hell to get there from his hunt. After Sam had burst through the door and zeroed in on his brother thirty minutes ago, he had yet to let him go. Dean didn’t seem in any hurry to leave his Sammy, either.

Sam looked at Kiki. “Thank you. Thank you so much for taking care of him.” He turned to Cas. “And Cas. Cas, I-“ Sam’s voice broke.  Cas looked away, looking uncomfortable at Sam’s display of emotion.

Kiki ran a hand over Dean’s back. “God, Sam, I am so sorry. I didn’t-“

Sam cut her off. “It’s not your fault. Cas filled me in. I know he just got scared.” Castiel had explained to Sam what happened, and Sam had seen how much fear was in Kiki’s eyes when she recounted the story as well. Not fear of Sam’s reprimand, but fear for Dean’s well-being. And that went a long way in Sam’s book.

She shook her head. “Still, I can’t-“

“Enough.” Sam said quietly. “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t. He’s safe, and I know he had a great day with you.” Sam hadn’t let Dean around many strangers since Dean had turned little, but he had seen Dean’s instant connection with this woman, as well as how much she cared for the other children in her home. “Thank you for taking him on such short notice.” Sam didn’t blame her, he really didn’t. In fact, with all that Castiel had told him about blurred memories and mixed up adult-child signals, he was just surprised Dean had been as well behaved and well-adjusted as he so far had shown.

Sam rubbed Dean’s back, and had the sense that Dean’s escapade and ensuing tears were likely putting the toddler fast asleep on Sam’s shoulder.  “I hope I can bring him back again if I need to.” He told Kiki.

Kiki patted Dean’s back. “Of course you can. I promise, that door will be sealed shut. Could have sworn it had been…”

Sam chuckled, despite his earlier fear. “Yeah, Dean is uh, pretty resourceful.”

“I should say so. He’s a sweetie, Sam. Grant can be kind of a bully, not many kids stand up to him like that. Your brother is something special.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.  “He is.”

 

Sam tucked Dean in close that night, snuggling under the sheets without a breath of space between him and his little brother. He watched Dean sleep, safely ensconced in Sam’s arms.

When Kiki had called Sam earlier that day to tell him Dean went missing, his heart had literally stopped. He ran through all the possible creatures in his mind that could hurt or kill Dean, and he had hopped in the Impala, driving like a madman back to Little Angels.

Castiel had explained to Sam what had happened, and while Sam silently applauded Dean, he knew that if Dean was going to stay little for any length of time he would have to have a conversation about the consequences of resorting to physical violence.

Man, this parenting stuff was tough. Sam didn’t know how parents did it, day in and day out, not knowing how their child would grow up to act. At least Sam had the comfort of knowing that adult Dean was one badass dude; sure, sometimes he made shitty decisions, but Sam could say that Dean’s heart was always in the right place, and his purpose in life was making sure others got to safely live theirs.

He could do worse.

But right now, Dean was so small, so vulnerable, and even when Dean did something bad he still roused every single one of Sam’s protective instincts and threw them into overdrive.

Dean’s head brushed Sam’s arm. “S’mmy?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m right here.” Sam’s hold on his baby brother tightened.

“S’mmy,” Dean whispered again before falling back asleep.

“Right here, Dean.” He kissed Dean’s forehead. “Right here.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet protector Sam and adorably clingy Dean, poor thing, whom I fear will soon start to have the nightmares than Cas feared he might :( 
> 
> Meanwhile, Dean gives Sam a scare when he helps him unpack

October sunshine shone bright in their eyes as the Winchester brothers walked up to their new home.

Well, Sam amended. To the hotel suite in southern Indiana that would be their home for the next month. A fellow hunter had a cousin that had a friend that knew a guy that ran this hotel, and the one bedroom, one and a half bath, living room suite with a kitchenette would only run Sam a fraction of the price that it would a normal guest.

The hotel resided on the banks of the Ohio River in a small, tourist town on the southern border of Indiana. Dean seemed to be more and more restless at night, and Sam was still waiting for the other shoe to drop as far as Castiel’s warning about Dean’s scattered memories. After the scare of Dean running away a few days earlier, Sam thought it best to find one place to hunker down for a while. The stability would be good for Dean, and Sam’s nerves could use a break as well. Dean seemed to be more easily frightened lately, sticking as close to Sam as he could get fifty-five minutes out of every sixty. Sam hoped the calming new setting would help them both.

Dean’s little hand rested in his as Sam led them up to the hotel’s front entrance. A well-preserved historic building, the hotel showcased updated rooms and modern appliances while still maintaining the columned look of an old mansion. The entryway was grand, the grounds expansive and well-kept, and while the river wasn’t flowing fast enough to be heard from where they stood, Sam was looking forward to a month of peaceful, stationary living.

Sam slowed his pace to accommodate Dean’s short legs as the smaller Winchester ascended the stone steps that led to the hotel’s double doors. Two duffels slung over his shoulder, Sam looked down at Dean. “You ready, bud? We are gonna stay here for a while.”

Dean said nothing, walking into the hotel’s homey, charming lobby alongside Sam. As they made their way to the front desk, he asked, “Is Cas gonna find us?” Dean didn’t pay much attention to the dark red and ivory décor, choosing instead to stay close to Sam while dragging his feet along the patterns in the thick carpet.

Sam squeezed his hand. “Cas will always find us, Dean. No matter where we go.”

“I want Cas to come now.” Dean said miserably. 

Since Cas had been the one to talk Dean down from the tree that day, Dean’s attachment to his angel had only grown stronger. Although Sam suspected it had begun much before that incident. Still though, Dean had been more and more restless lately, especially at night, clinging to Sam even during the most mundane tasks, and only feeling completely at ease when Sam and Cas were both around.  Sam had hardly been able to leave Dean alone long enough to go to the bathroom for any length of time, Dean had been so unwilling to let Sam out of his sight.  He demanded to be carried or cuddled almost constantly, though when Sam prodded him to divulge what was wrong, Dean would just get stubborn and silent. His watery green eyes would speak volumes though, and rather than push, Sam just gave in to Dean’s neediness. If his presence offered Dean the comfort that the little boy needed, well, after everything adult (and child, Jesus) Dean had ever done for him, Sam was only too happy to oblige.

Sam hoped that the stability of the same room, same town, same surroundings would help Dean feel comfortable again and maybe shake the blurred nightmares that Sam feared were beginning to brew in Dean’s little mind.

Sam shook away these thoughts as he walked up to the front desk and chatted with the lady on duty, letting go of Dean so he could pull out his wallet to flash his ID.

“Hi there!” She greeted warmly, indulging in small talk with Sam while checking his ID. “Winchester, Winchest- yes, here you are. Ah. Okay.” She winked at Sam. “Third floor suite.” She clicked her mouse a few times. “He told me you might be arriving today.” She referenced the hunter that had owed Sam a favor. While the computer spat out Sam’s reservation, she smiled down at Dean. “Hey there, sweetie. What’s your name?”

Dean stared at the clerk, but edged his body behind Sam’s leg.

“He’s a little shy,” Sam apologized. “Lately, anyway. He’s had a rough week.” He squinted at her name tag. “Dean? Can you say ‘hi’ to Robin?”

Dean fisted his hands in Sam’s jeans, side-stepping to stand hidden between Sam’s legs.

“Aw.” Robin dug up two plastic key cards. “It’s okay, Dean. I’m shy sometimes, too.” She handed the keys to Sam. “Room Three-Fifteen.”

“Thanks.” Sam pocketed one key and handed the other to Dean. “Can you take this for me? Thanks, bud.” He smiled at Robin. “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure. There is someone here at the desk twenty-four-seven, and if you need anything delivered to your room, just pick up the phone and dial -0-. There’s a list of local restaurants in your room, and we also offer room service if that would be easier,” Robin explained, glancing sympathetically down at Dean.

“Sammy.” For once in his life, Dean ignored a pretty girl. He reached his arms up to Sam.

“Dean, my hands are full.” Sam still had their bags thrown over one shoulder. He turned to Robin. “Thanks again,” he said, bending his knees to scoop Dean up with his free arm.

“My pleasure,” she repeated. She lifted a hand to wave at Dean as Sam headed for the elevators, but Dean only turned his head into Sam, burying his little face in Sam’s shoulder.

Sam’s chest clenched as he got on the elevator and fumbled to punch the number three. He tucked his cheek against Dean’s hair on the ride up, hoping that some down time would bring back his bouncy, smiling little brother.

 

Dean bounced on the bed, reveling in the expanse of the king sized mattress. He jumped up and down right in the middle of it, chanting Sam’s name and spinning in quarter turns, turning in circles.  “Sam. Sam. Sammy Sammy Sam Sam SAMMY!”

“Dean, _what?”_ Sam asked for the third time.

Dean launched into one last jump, then landed on his butt, falling backwards against the cushiony mattress. He giggled, then turned his head towards Sam, breathing rapidly from his exertion. “Is Cas coming now?”

Sam removed shirts and jeans from his duffel, placing them in the old wooden dresser’s drawers. “Probably not, Dean.” Sam was distracted with putting their clothes away and scouting out a place in the room where he could stash his weapons so that they would be quickly accessible but still out of Dean’s reach.

The sudden silence made Sam turn around. Dean sat on the bed, his momentary exuberance gone. Dean picked at the thick, dark blue and cream comforter.

Sam sighed. “We will call him tonight, Dean, okay? After dinner.”

Dean flung himself backwards, his little body taking up hardly any space on the humongous bed. “Okay, Sammy.” He wiggled his feet back and forth, but was otherwise quiet.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and tickled Dean’s legs. “Hey. Why don’t you go look out the window, and tell me what our view is like? I’ll finish unpacking, then we can get something to eat and call Cas. How’s that sound?” Dean rolled over onto his tummy, and Sam patted his butt a few times before standing to finish his task.

Sam shoved the last of Dean’s shirts into a drawer and turned back towards his duffel.

He froze in horror when he saw the long, sharp dagger fixed in Dean’s hands. “Dean! Put that down, now!”

Dean held the knife in two hands, not paying attention to the blade that Sam had foolishly forgotten to cover. Quick hunts and knee-jerk decisions were better made with a readily accessible weapon, so Sam had just packed his knife carefully at the bottom of his duffel, wrapped only in a tee shirt.

“Dean!” Sam didn’t want to frighten Dean into accidentally cutting himself, but the dagger was none too steady in Dean’s tiny hands, and Sam needed him to drop it, like, yesterday.

Dean looked over at Sam, his eyes wide. “I hewp you unpack, Sammy! So we can call Cas!”

Sam hastily made his way to Dean, and carefully plucked the sharp knife from Dean’s hands. “Unpacking this bag is more of a grown-up job, okay? I’ll finish.” God, every time Sam thought he had a handle on this parenting stuff, Dean found a way to unintentionally prove him wrong.

“But I hewp, Sammy.” Dean’s bottom lip quivered.

Sam cursed. Maybe what he had cautioned Cas earlier, about taking his time to find a cure, had been wrong. Maybe he should call him right the hell now and tell the angel to hurry the fuck up and find the cure so Sam could have his older brother back before Sam inadvertently got Dean hurt, or worse. Not to mention that Sam must have royally fucked up for Dean to be acting so scared and clingy lately. Little kids were supposed to be happy, safe, loved. Not withdrawn and weepy. Adult Dean certainly would have no time for that.

Sam lay the knife on top of the tall wardrobe against the wall across the room from their bed, well out of Dean’s reach, and ran a hand along Dean’s hair. When Dean stiffened, Sam knelt down to pull Dean into a hug. “Unpacking can wait, huh? Let’s get food and call your angel.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the pain I put poor little Dean through in this chapter. It gets better, I promise

Dean settled down after talking to Cas via Sam’s speakerphone, his earlier fidgeting gone, although Sam thought he still seemed kind of nervous. Cas had offered to meet them at their hotel room, bringing cheeseburgers and fries and some beer for Sam.

Food aside, Sam was mostly just grateful for the company, and the extra pair of hands with Dean. Not that Dean was that much of a troublemaker lately; Sam just wasn’t sure how to handle this new, quiet, clingy Dean, and the ball of anxiety in Sam’s gut over Dean’s mental state just kept getting bigger and bigger.  Dean seemed to be doing okay with Sam and Cas both here, but Sam still couldn’t help but be worried. He pushed his half-eaten burger out of the way and picked up his beer bottle, mostly for something to do.

They were all sitting around the suite’s small table. Dean was perched on one of Castiel’s thighs, drenching French fries in ketchup before shoving them into his mouth.

Sam shook his head, smiling. “You’re a mess, Dean bean.”

“It’s not me, Sammy. It’s the Fwench fwies.” Dean licked ketchup off his lips and made them even messier with his next bite.

“Crap,” Sam said when a huge glob of ketchup fell onto Castiel’s pants. Sam grabbed a napkin and quickly started to dab at the stain. “Sorry, Cas. Dean, seriously, you’re eating like a caveman.”

Castiel’s hand curled around Sam’s wrist, tight as a vise. He moved Sam’s hand away from his thigh. “It’s fine, Sam.” He assured, voice low. Cas waved his other hand over the dripped condiment, eliminating the mess in an instant.

Sam swallowed hard, his wrist yet to be released. Great…now there was a confusing heat shooting through his chest to join his nervous stomach. _Stop,_ he scolded himself. Dean, and only Dean, is where Sam’s attention needed to be now.

Seriously, this shit hadn’t happened when Dean had been big.

“Uh,” Sam laughed uneasily and untangled himself from Cas’s hold. “Too bad you can’t work that magic on Dean. No more baths or co-showers.”

Castiel lifted his hand again, but Sam stopped him. “No, don’t. I was kidding.” Convenient as it would be, Sam felt like he and his little brother had developed some weird closeness since that first shared shower, and now he loved having bath time with Dean. Seeing his brother play and giggle in bath bubbles was the freakin’ sweetest thing Sam had ever seen in his life, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. Sam had checked out this suite during Dean’s nap earlier, and was excited for tomorrow to show Dean the giant Jacuzzi style tub that awaited them. Dean would feel like he was in a big, bubbly pool, and Sam hoped it would go a long way to easing Dean’s anxious countenance.

“Sam,” Castiel cleared his throat and readjusted Dean on his leg, curling a hand protectively around Dean’s stomach. “I think it would be wise if I stay here tonight.”

Sam barely stopped himself from sputtering around his beer. “I…okay? I mean, you’re always welcome to stay, Cas, you know that, it’s just…” _It’s just there’s only one bed…_

“I feel an energy around Dean.” To an untrained eye, it appeared that Cas merely ran a hand down Dean’s hair with affection, but Sam knew Cas could see and feel much more than a normal human. “I’m not sure what it is, but it makes me uneasy.”

Sam didn’t have a chance to reply. “Cas, taste my Fwench fwies!” Oblivious to the weighty conversation going on around him, Dean turned in Castiel’s lap and shoved a handful of fries towards the angel’s mouth.

“Dean, mmmff,” Cas opened his mouth just in time for Dean to shove in a bunch of fries, as well as the better part of his little fingers. Sam watched the angel’s jaw work around the food, his strong throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas choked out. He gave Sam an embarrassed smile and quickly opened a beer, using the liquid to wash down the food.

“Dean,” Sam scolded. “It’s sweet of you to share your food, but maybe ask Cas if he wants any next time, yeah?” But Sam couldn’t keep the slight smile off his face.

He also almost reached out to swipe a small gob of ketchup off of Castiel’s lower lip, but caught himself just in time.  “Cas, if you’re okay with him, I’m gonna, uh, go take a shower.”

Seemingly oblivious to Sam’s reactions, Cas waved a hand. “Go on.  I am fine with Dean.”

Sam brushed a hasty kiss to Dean’s forehead and headed for the bathroom, hopping into the shower and letting the cold water rush over him as it warmed.

 

Sam exited the shower and immediately heard screaming. He didn’t even take the time to tie his towel around his waist; just held it up with one hand and shot out of the bathroom.

Dean was being cuddled on Castiel’s lap, tears running down his face, mouth wide open with ragged screams. Cas had his cheek tucked against Dean’s, murmuring softly, rocking the little boy gently in his arms.

“Cas?” Sam had to yell to be heard over Dean’s cries. “What the hell happened?” He rushed over to Cas, who was sitting on the king sized bed, his back up against the headboard, legs stretched out straight. Dean lay sideways against Cas, his butt cradled in the vee of Castiel’s thighs, his back supported by Castiel’s arms while Cas’s other hand soothed down Dean’s wet cheek.

Cas looked up at Sam with a pained expression. “His memories, Sam. I fear they are starting to infiltrate his young mind.”

Sam looked down at Dean, his mouth open in shock. He hastily dropped the towel and threw on sweats, not even caring that for several quick seconds he had been junk ass naked in front of Castiel. His only thoughts were on Dean, and how he could hopefully make those wrenched, heartbreaking screams stop.

“Dean.” Sam knelt on the bed beside Castiel, reaching for his brother. “Dean, baby, shh. Shh, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud. It’s okay. Sammy’s here. Sammy’s gotcha.” Sam lifted Dean from Castiel’s arms but stayed right next to Cas, figuring Dean could use all the comfort he could get.

Dean looked at Sam for a moment, eyes wet and confused, his screams petering into soft, muddled sobs.

Sam wanted to breathe a sigh of relief at the sudden decrease in volume. “Hey, that’s it, baby. It’s Sammy. It’s okay, Dean, everything is okay.”

Except it wasn’t. Dean opened his mouth and started screaming again, eyes screwing shut in anguish, as if by closing his eyes he could stop the tortured pictures from entering his mind.

“Dean, Dean, Dean.” Sam rose off the bed, pacing the room while jiggling Dean rhythmically in his arms. He cupped the back of Dean’s head where it fell against Sam’s shoulder. Even muffled a bit by Sam’s skin, Dean’s cries still pierced Sam’s eardrums.

He looked helplessly at Cas. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” He asked sharply. He hitched Dean closer to him with an arm under his bottom and rubbed his back with the other. “Can’t you go in there and get him out?”

Cas got off the bed and stood in front of Sam, wrapping one large hand around the back of Dean’s neck. Dean’s cries softened for a moment before ramping up again. “I would if I could, Sam, you know that.” Cas looked just as miserable as Sam. “This is what I feared would happen. I am afraid the only thing we can do is wait.”

“Wait?” Sam questioned with disbelief. “You mean just let him cry it out?” He bent his knees, bouncing Dean gently against his chest. “For how long?” Every scream out of his little brother’s mouth tore at Sam’s chest.

“I do not know, Sam.”

Sam was about to snap at Cas, tell him thanks but no thanks for being no help at all, when one of Dean’s screeches brought him back to the real problem. This wasn’t Castiel’s fault. Of course he would help Dean if he were able. It was only then Sam noticed that at some point Castiel had come to stand just inches from Sam, providing warmth and security against Dean’s back while Dean was cuddled to Sam’s front.

“Dean, oh, baby.” Sam could feel Dean’s body vibrating against his chest with the effort of his agony. Sam’s shoulder was glistening, soaked from Dean's tears.  “I’m here, Dean. As long as it takes.” He took a step towards Cas so that Dean was effectively sandwiched in between them, surrounded by love, strength, and comfort on all sides.

Dean’s screams were starting to make Sam’s ears ring, but he didn’t care. He kissed Dean’s temples and kept murmuring soothing words. Dean had always been there for Sam, always when it counted, even when Sam did his damnedest to push Dean away.

He kissed Dean’s hair and whispered again, “As long as it takes.”

 

“Sam.” Castiel said his name quietly. But even over Dean’s deafening cries, Sam still heard him.

Sam’s arms were burning with exhaustion, his eyes gritty from lack of sleep, but still he paced, walking Dean throughout the hotel suite. “I’m fine, Cas.”

“You need to rest.” Castiel held out his arms. “Let me help. Take a break.”

Sam hesitated, looking down at Dean. Though his screams had downgraded to hiccupping, ragged sobs akin to that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, Dean really had yet to take a full breath in the hours since he had first been assaulted with memories of Hell.

“You aren’t giving up, Sam.” Castiel pressed gently. “You aren’t abandoning him by accepting my help.” Castiel rose from the bed where he had been resting his vessel, anticipating a long night to come. “Dean needs you rested and strong. You won’t be any help to him if you fall down where you stand.”

Sam hugged Dean tightly, but moved closer towards the bed in silent acquiescence. He shifted Dean into Castiel’s waiting arms, brushing his fingers across Dean’s tear-stained cheeks. “Just a few minutes,” Sam said.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and let Sam hover for a moment, nodding. “Just a few minutes,” he agreed, though they both knew better. He held Dean to his chest and stroked his back, staying close by Sam, knowing the bigger brother wasn’t ready for him to walk away yet and resume pacing. This left Castiel standing in between Sam’s legs where Sam sat on the edge of the bed, and for a moment the two of them were silent, not wanting to speak for fear of breaking this protective circle that their bodies had unerringly cast around Dean.

Before he realized what he was doing, Castiel reached out a hand and laid it on Sam’s forehead, brushing his hair aside and cupping the side of his face tenderly. “Sleep, Sam. At least close your eyes.” Sleep would probably be impossible with Dean’s bawling still dominating the room. “You need it. Your brother needs it.”

Sam turned his face into that warm hand, just for a second, he told himself, just to refresh his own soul’s energy with that of another.

When Castiel gently pushed Sam down to lay horizontal on the bed before stepping away to bounce Dean around the room, Sam went almost willingly, his eyes fluttering shut on a silent whisper of thanks that neither he nor Dean had to endure this Hell alone.

 

Sam didn’t really sleep-there was no way he could with Dean still screaming- but his body benefitted from the rest that he allowed it, so three hours later he was hopping off the bed, ready to take Dean again. He ducked into the bathroom to relieve himself before taking Dean once more from Castiel’s arms, determined this time to hold his little brother until his crying stopped for good.

In that hotel suite, at four in the morning, eight hours after memories of Hell had permeated Dean’s toddler brain, Sam voiced aloud his biggest fear. “What if he doesn’t stop, Cas.”

What if Dean was never free from the pain and agony of his time in Hell, what if he never aged back to an adult, what if the entire time he stayed little would be spent in misery, what if Sam couldn’t do this anymore, what if-

“Sam.” This time when Castiel surrounded them, he did it fully, his entire being wrapping around Dean where he slumped, quietly sobbing, against Sam’s chest. Sam blinked rapidly, sure that it was pure fatigue that had him seeing the shadow of dark, outspread wings against the moonlit wall.  

“Cas,” he breathed, but Castiel kept talking.

“Dean is safe. He is safe, and secure, here in your arms and mine. On some level, he knows that. I believe that once he lets go, as his adult vessel never would allow, once he ‘cries it out’, as you say, that he will purge the evil, allow himself forgiveness, and begin to heal.”

Sam had stopped pacing, content to leave Dean – and himself- within the warm haven that was their guardian angel.

 

Around dawn, Dean’s cries had finally started to taper into choked sobs and whines, and still Sam kept whispering whatever nonsense came to mind into Dean’s ear, trying to soothe him as best he could.

Castiel’s theory couldn’t possibly be correct, could it? Sam would be the first to agree with anyone that repression and denial were adult Dean’s middle names, and yeah, he could get on board with the idea that cleansing and purging those torturous emotions was good for anyone who had been through trauma. But as he held this tiny, crying version of his badass older brother, who had been hovering over the edge of this excruciating emotional cliff for some time now, Sam was hopeful yet hesitant to believe that they would all start a new day able to magically leave this all behind them.

“He won’t do it overnight, Sam,” Castiel murmured, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. “Nor could he do it alone.” Dean hitched and hiccupped against Sam’s shoulder, the only sounds coming from his mouth now just weak, quiet whimpers. “But he won’t have to, will he?”

Sam lowered himself down to the bed, shifting to sat back against it like Castiel had when Dean had first started crying. Dean curled even further into Sam, eyes shut, lips finally still. Sam kept one arm securely around Dean as he pulled the blankets up over both of them. Knowing he would be awake for a while, content to watch Dean finally sleep, Sam answered back, “No. No, he won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Thanks for sticking with us. Had to force poor little Dean to face his fears, and allow the childish version of himself to deal with the pain that adult Dean always shoves aside. 
> 
> And now, my lovelies, fluffity fluffity fluff fluff from now on! (or at least, if there be angst, I swear it will be mild). If you'd like to see Little Dean experience anything in particular, feel free to share thoughts and ideas :) I can't promise to write them all, but I love hearing about what my readers like to see
> 
> Thanks so much, as always, for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas run into the witch that cursed Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was hitting a real roadblock with Little!Dean and finally figured out it was because I didn't have much of a parameter for the little circumstance that Dean has found himself in. This chapter is my muse clearing that up for me, and you, so that I may continue to enjoy Little!Dean without wondering what the hell I'm doing. I miss this little cutie and am glad to be back to him! Hopefully the length of this chapter will help make up for my absence

Castiel watched Dean come awake on Sam’s lap, his eyes opening sleepily, blinking Castiel into focus. Dean had two little fingers shoved into his mouth, though Castiel didn’t detect the familiar sucking motion that usually followed. They were there for comfort, much like Dean’s fist curled into Sam’s shirt was seeking something close to Sam to hold, not to squeeze.

Sam slept on, one arm curled around Dean’s lower back and one lying against the bed, his large hand cradling Dean’s legs. Dean’s eyes were wet and puffy as he slowly blinked them awake.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel spoke softly, his mouth wanting to curl into a smile at Dean’s sleepy silence.

Dean didn’t respond, but didn’t take his eyes from Castiel’s. Dean’s breath hitched, and Castiel’s stomach took a dip as he waited nervously for more bawling, but after a moment Dean’s small chest expanded and contracted as he let out a long, heavy sigh.

 _Yes, Dean,_ Castiel thought. _We’re all glad it’s over now._

Dean kept looking at Cas while snuggling further into Sam. He sighed again, this time almost contentedly, safe and secure in the arms of his brother and under the watchful eyes of his angel.

 

“Sammy.” Dean poked a sleeping Sam in the nose. “Sammy.” Poke. “SAMMY!” _Poke._

“Dean!” Sam’s large hand caught Dean’s small one, lifting it away from his nose. Sam stretched his legs out, unable to do much more as Dean was currently sitting on Sam’s stomach. “I’m awake, baby. What.”

“We pway, Sammy.” Dean said, stating the obvious.

Sam groaned, coming awake faster than he would have liked after such a short morning of sleep. He was exhausted. Sam’s arms and legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each and his mind was still a bit foggy. But relief flooded through him at hearing Dean’s carefree voice and his heart lifted when he heard Dean’s giggle.

His ab muscles jumped and flexed when he felt soft hair brush against them. “Dean!”

Dean giggled again, from underneath Sam’s shirt. He had scrambled down Sam’s body and now had the hem of Sam’s tee fisted in his little hands. Dean stuck his head underneath the soft cotton to hide. “You can’t see me, Sammy!”

Sam put a hand over Dean’s head through the fabric. “I can feel you, baby boy. And hear you.” Sam chuckled, and was about to nudge Dean out of his shirt when he felt something wet against his belly button. “Dean!”

Backing out of Sam’s shirt in fits of laughter, Dean rolled onto his back on the bed in between Sam’s legs. “I lick your tummy, Sammy!”

Sam wiped his midsection with his tee shirt, trying not to grimace. “You sure did, Dean.”

“Sammy.” Dean looked at his brother quite seriously. He pointed to the bathroom. “You have to wait. Castell getting cweaned.”

Sam chuckled, getting a kick out of some of the human pleasures Cas enjoyed. “Okay, Dean. I can wait.”

Dean settled more comfortably in Sam’s lap. “I wait too, Sammy. Then we cwean.”

“Okay, baby.” Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, content to snuggle with his finally dry-eyed brother. “Then we clean.”

 

“Hey Cas,” Sam scanned the numerous brochures boasting local attractions stacked on the kitchenette table while Castiel traded his shower towel for a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s adult-sized tee shirts.

Sam kept his head glued to the pamphlet as the angel changed clothes, oblivious to his own nudity. He could tell they were falling into an unspoken arrangement after Dean’s nightmarish cryfest the night before; Castiel was staying close while Dean was little, and Sam was grateful for the support. “There’s a carnival in town, along the boardwalk on the river. I thought maybe we could take Dean.” Sam jostled Dean where the toddler was situated on Sam’s thigh at the little hotel table. “What do you think, De?” Sam kissed his brother’s temple. After the tiresome night and long mid-morning nap, Sam was glad to see Dean almost back to his old spirits, albeit still quite clingy to himself and Castiel. “Do you wanna go to the fair?”

Dean paid Sam no attention, instead continuing to arrange his Cheerios in various patterns on the old table.

“De-eee,” Sam nudged him, sing-songing his name. The fresh air would do Dean good, not to mention he deserved to have fun at something as American as a county fair during his however short childhood. “Fairs usually have pie-“

“Pie, Sammy!” Dean shouted, toppling off Sam’s lap and into Castiel’s quickly outstretched arms. “We go get pie!”

Sam chuckled, grabbing the small backpack that he had started carrying to hold a change of clothes for both him and Dean. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go.”

 

“Sammy, wook! Cwowns!” Dean pointed to three animated figures with made up faces from his perch on Sam’s hip.

Sam gulped. “Uh, yeah, Dean.” He gripped Dean a little tighter, pointedly averting his gaze from the gaudily dressed clowns that had captured Dean’s attention. “Uh, how ‘bout we-“

Sam felt a strong hand wrap around his arm, long, lean fingers gently pressing into his skin. Castiel’s hand cupped the back of Dean’s head, turning him away from the colorful figures. “Look, Dean. Cowboys!” Cas pointed Dean’s gaze in the opposite direction, where a Wild Western show was about to take place.

Dean climbed from Sam’s hip up onto his shoulders, fisting his little hands in Sam’s hair. “Cowboys, Sammy!”

Sam shot Castiel a grateful look for distracting Dean from the clowns. “Very cool, Dean. Let’s watch!” Cas returned Sam’s smile as he guided them towards the growing crowd that was circling five men dressed in western wear. Two of them wielded lassos, and Dean’s eyes went wide watching the cowboys expertly whip them around.

Sam curled his hands around Dean’s legs to steady him as he rode Sam’s shoulders. Trying to move towards the back so they wouldn’t be blocking everyone’s view, Sam used Dean’s foot to point towards the middle of the circle. “Look, Dean, that one is on a horse!” One of the cowboys dressed in jeans and a dark red collared shirt swung up onto his stallion with ease, whipping his lasso around in practiced movements.

Sam winced when Dean pulled on his hair in excitement, his little butt bouncing up and down on Sam’s shoulders. “A horse, Sammy! An’ a whip! An’ guns!” Sam and Dean watched as the cowboys re-enacted a high noon fight, with play fighting and fake guns and lots of whooping and hollering, much to the crowd’s delight. Sam glanced around, noticing at least a hundred onlookers had gravitated towards the circle to watch the show.

“Excuse me,” Castiel murmured when someone bumped into him. Sam glared at the offender, already past them and well on her way to weaving through the sea of onlookers, and tugged on Castiel’s arm to pull him closer. The last thing they needed was to get separated in this crowd.

Moments later, another person jostled Castiel again, knocking him into Sam’s side. Dean remained oblivious to the movement, high atop Sam’s strong shoulders, content to watch the Wild West show with wide, impressed eyes.

Sam and Cas exchanged looks, angel and hunter instincts kicking in, highly attuned to their surroundings. Sam curled a hand around Castiel’s hip, guiding the angel to stand directly in front of Sam.

Sam growled when a third person bumped into Cas, smirking at them before disappearing into the crowd. Castiel’s fingers curled in and out, his hand itching for his angel blade.

He cast his blue eyes around. “Sam.” Something was going on.

“Yeah, Cas.” Sam murmured in agreement, keeping a hand on Castiel’s hip. Together they subtly moved towards the edge of the crowd, Sam’s fingers curling tighter around Dean’s legs.

“Perhaps we should enjoy another part of the fair.” Castiel suggested, and Sam could pick up on the hint underneath.

They would do a lap, keep an eye out, all while still making sure Dean had a good time. “Yeah,” Sam swung Dean down from his shoulders, settling Dean on his hip. No way was he putting Dean down until they were away from this crowd. “Let’s go.”  

 

“Alright alright, step right up, try your luck and knock ‘em down, easy as pie, folks, that’s right, hey, you there, how about you little man, you want to try to win one of these beeeyooootiful prizes?” A short, stocky man with unkempt hair called out to Sam, his eyes on Dean.  He stood behind a booth that held old fashioned milk bottles stacked into mini pyramids, a pile of mock baseballs in a basket on the counter. Huge, garishly colored stuffed animals hung from the top of the booth while smaller ones decorated the sides.

Sam chuckled at the general con that was carnival games, and was going to walk on by when Castiel stopped. “Gabriel.” Castiel coolly greeted the carnie.

“Hey, little bro! Never thought I’d see your stiff back in a fun place like this.” Gabriel winked at them.

Sam watched the exchange, taking in Castiel’s formal posture and stoic face that was in stark contrast to the other man’s wide grin.

“Cas.” Sam said quietly. “You know him?”

“Course he knows me.” The carnie-Gabriel- said. “He and I go way back, don’t we Cassie?”

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?”

Sam stepped in front of Cas, putting himself between him and the carnie. “Cas, you want me to-“

“No, no.” Castiel gently pushed Sam aside. “Thank you for your concern, Sam. It is fine. Gabriel is, well, he’s my-“

“I’m to him what that little man in your arms is to you.” Gabriel announced. His brow furrowed. Holding up two fingers, he rotated them in a twisting motion. “Although, I’m thinking your roles are a bit reversed, no?”

Sam looked back and forth between the two men. “He’s your brother?”

Castiel poked at a stuffed monkey hanging from the booth. “All angels are my brothers, Sam.”

Sam scowled at Gabriel, wary of the spark of wisdom in the young man’s eyes. His manner was all too familiar, as if he already knew who Sam was. “What do you know?”

“Sam.” Castiel warned.

Gabriel held up his hands in surrender. “Nah, it’s cool bro. Good to know the Winchesters aren’t as dumb as some people make them sound.”

“Sammy.” Dean tugged on Sam’s shirt, interrupting the conversation. “We pway now?” He pointed to the pile of baseballs heaped in front of Gabriel.

Gabriel lowered his eyes to the balls, then back to Sam. “Go ahead,” He dared, but his smile was soft.

“Go, Sammy, go!” Dean cheered.

Sam set his jaw and wound Dean around so that he was riding Sam piggy-back style instead of on his hip. “Wrap your legs around me, Dean.” He instructed. “Tight. Good boy.” Dean did as he was told and perched his elbows on Sam’s shoulders so he could see. “Go Sammy!”

Sam tossed one of the baseballs up in the air and caught it in his hand a few times, testing its weight. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew carnival games were always rigged. But damned if he didn’t want to best this new angel in front of Cas, and win Dean a prize to boot.

His first shot landed square in the center of the bottom right bottle.

The tower didn’t budge an inch.

Sam barely muffled a curse. He eyed Gabriel. “At least make it fair.”

Gabriel grinned. “Don’t know what you mean, Sammy Sam.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and threw again, this time hitting the left bottom bottle with the same result. “Cas.” Sam spun around. “Look at that and tell me that’s not bullshit.”

“Bullshit!” Dean echoed gleefully. “Bullshit, Sammy, that’s bullsh-“

“Dean!” Sam twisted his neck around to look at Dean, wrapping a hand around Dean’s little wrist. “That’s not a word for little boys. Sammy shouldn’t have said it.”

“Okay, Sammy.” Dean patted the back of Sam’s head. “One more ball, Sammy, frow it!”

Sam geared up to do as Dean said, putting all his muscle and aiming skills into his third and last throw.

He hit the three bottles dead center.

Nothing.

“Oh, come on!” Sam yelled. Dean had been reaching out to pet a stuffed moose hanging alongside the booth for the last five minutes, and something inside of Sam desperately wanted to make sure he went home with it. “Cas!” He stuck a finger in Castiel’s face. “Tell you brother to quit being so fuc- quit being so shady.” He corrected. He spun to face Gabriel. “That was dead on.”

Gabriel dipped his head in a sympathetic gesture. “Them’s the breaks, my man.”

“Gabriel.” Castiel’s voice was authoritative, firm.

“Call me Gabe, little bro.” Gabriel looked Sam up and down. “You too, Moose.”

Sam glowered back, swinging Dean back around to cradle him again.

“Cas, Cas, Cas!” Dean cheered. “Castell’s turn!” He tried to pluck the stuffed moose off the clip, but Sam held him back.

“Go ahead, baby bro.” Gabriel encouraged. “On the house.”

Castiel looked between his brother and Sam. He picked up a baseball, gave it a look, and in two seconds powerfully launched it at the milk bottle trio, sending the stack crashing to the floor.

“That’s my boy,” Gabriel exclaimed approvingly.

Sam scowled. Angel powers trumped carnival rigging, it seemed.

Gabe plucked the moose off the rack and handed it to Dean, who squealed and held it tightly to his chest.

Sam swore Cas was about to roll his eyes in a very human gesture, and had just wrapped his hand around Castiel’s arm to guide them away when Gabriel stopped them. “A little tip, to go with your prize. Watch your backs.” Gabriel’s expression still held some mirth, but his eyes had turned serious. “You aren’t wrong, baby bro. You two are being tracked. She’s here, and she’s gathering a new coven.”

“She,” Sam repeated. He thought of the bystanders that had bumped into him and Cas. “You mean that bitch that did this to my brother?”

Gabriel gave a slight nod. “Yeah.  That’s the kicker though, Gigantor. This witch Dean killed, she wasn’t so bad. A few of her coven were, perhaps, so please, know that I approve of your wasting them. But to hear her tell it, she was Glenda the Good Witch. And she had been helping the rest of them turn over a new leaf, you know what I’m saying? They were on their path to the side of good, when along comes your brother, guns blazing and knives sharpened, ready to waste them just because they had ‘witch’ in the title.” He levered a gaze on Sam. “Dean killed her friends, her sisters, her coven, during that hunt. Hey, I would have done the same, had they threatened _my_ baby brother.” He threw a look at Cas. “But she’s out for revenge, man. That’s why little sugar lips here is nigh on three years old.”

Sam clutched Dean tighter, making Dean squirm. “Can’t bweathe, Sammy. Ooof.”

Sam didn’t notice. He was too busy focused on the fact that his hand could now sprawl the entirety of what was supposed to be his _older_ brother’s back. “She cursed Dean because he killed her sisters?”

Gabe nodded. “Seems your brother’s prejudices earned himself a new childhood, Beanpole.”

“Enough with the chatter, Gabriel.” Castiel cut in. He stepped closer to Sam and placed a protective hand on Dean’s back. “How dangerous is she?”

Gabriel looked between them conspiratorially. “She’s not out to kill him, if that’s what you mean.” He sat back, relaxed, getting his mic ready again to lure new prospects into his booth. “She just wanted to teach him a lesson. Though it seems it is Sam that is taking the brunt of it, no? But a fine job you are doing, young one.”

And just like that, the twinkle was gone from his eye, and his lips were moving quickly against the small microphone. “That’s it, that’s it, step right up! Knock ‘em down, win a prize. You there, little lady, come try your luck…”

Castiel kept a hand on Dean, reached for Sam with the other. “She’s here, Sam.  Take Dean, go back to the hotel. I will find her.”

“The hell you will,” Sam said fiercely. “She did this to him, to us. I’ll be damned if I let you clean up our mess.” He squeezed Castiel’s hand.

Castiel cast his eyes around in an assessing gaze before landing them back on Sam. “Gabriel does enjoy a good performance, but his heart is pure. What he says is true.” Sam let Cas lead him and Dean away from the booth, to the quiet of a nearby patch of trees. “To miss the opportunity to confront her would be a mistake, Sam. Perhaps she will clue us in to the spell’s reversal.”

Sam glanced down at Dean, still cradled in his arms, now half asleep with his face smushed against his new stuffed moose. “You take Dean.” It pained him to let go, but he trusted no one except Castiel with the safety of his brother. “I’ll find her-“

“Oh, my dear boy.” Green sparks flew up from the adjacent tree, and with them emerged a thin woman, dressed in black with green jewels adorning her wrists, neck, and fingers. “You already have.”

 

Sam clutched Dean tight against him. “You. You turn my brother back right now. Back to his adult self-no side effects, no repercussions.”

The witch cackled, looking down on Sam in a way that was quite impressive for someone who stood almost a foot shorter than he. “Your brother earned himself that position. No, try again, darling.”

Castiel stepped forward, blocking her from Sam. “Tell us your business with the Winchesters.”

“Oh.” Her eyes raked over Castiel. “You must be mister Tall, Dark, and Angel that I’ve been hearing about. Never too far from the Brothers Winchester, hmm?”

Castiel didn’t falter. “What is it you wish to teach Dean?”

“Aw,” she clucked. “Look at you two. The perfect pair, really. And here I thought you were in it for him.” She fluttered a hand over Dean’s head, and the little boy immediately fell limp, his eyes closing as he slumped against Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Sam screamed. “What did you do to him?” He cupped the back of Dean’s head and stroked his cheek. “Dean. Dean, wake up, baby. Wake up, come on. Come on, Dean.”

The witch rolled her eyes. “So dramatic, really. He’s only asleep, hmm?” She gave a sultry laugh. “A deep, deep sleep.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed. In a second, his hand was wrapped around her neck, her back roughly plastered against a tree. “I will not ask you again,” he warned menacingly.   “Tell me your business with the Winchesters.”

This time it was her eyes that flashed. “Those brothers killed my sisters,” she hissed. “Dean, the eldest. Thinks himself such the warrior. Took out two of my coven in as many seconds.” She threw down a mess of green sparks over Dean, setting him off on another crying jag much too similar to the one he had suffered the night before. His screams rent the air, breaking Sam’s heart all over again. “And you,” She jeered, eyeing Sam. “Right there with him, taking down a third. You’re no better, Samuel.”

“Wake him up. Now.” Sam warned through clenched teeth.

She leered at him. “You men. Only thinking about that which you think you see, never beyond.”

Castiel wound his fist into her cloak, twisting tightly into the fabric, and, Sam thought, right into her heart. “You watch your words. You either tell us our reversal, or sacrifice your life.”

She spit at him. “Again. Men. Only viewing what’s right in front of you.” She looked over Castiel to Sam. “Have I killed your brother? No. Have I done to him what he did to mine? No. Perhaps if you can see past his size, you may find your answer.”

“I’m getting sick of these riddles, Cas.” Sam said levelly. Dean’s crying had ceased with another flick of her hand, and he was passed out against Sam’s chest once more. His small weight was growing heavy in Sam’s arms, heavy on his heart. He needed his brother to wake up, now.

“As am I, Sam.” Castiel turned his fist tighter.

“You kill me, you learn nothing.” The witch threatened.

“We aren’t learning much with you around.” Sam said angrily.

She looked at him with a face full of pity. “You are fortunate that I am not a bitter woman.”

“You turned my brother into a helpless three year old, you bi-“

“Ah, ah. I could have done worse.” Another shower of sparks burst from her fingers, this time raining upon Sam and Dean. At the heat on his baby skin Dean woke up and screamed louder. Sam’s arm burned with white hot heat as she spoke. “Still could. I’d watch your tongue.” Sam held silent, save for soft whispers and murmurs of comfort for Dean.

Castiel growled, primal, animalistic, at the sight of sparks touching Dean’s skin. Twisting her heart tighter, Castiel threatened, “I will raise Dean from scratch and see you dead, spell reversal be damned. Your life, one who would hurt a little boy, is not to be saved.”

“Your little angel killed my sisters,” the witch raged. “They were learning, they were turning towards the side of good. Before Dean Winchester snuffed out the light that was their lives. Because of him, they were unable to complete their lesson. Now Dean must learn what it is to be unable to complete even the smallest task without help.” She gasped for breath and looked at Sam. “Although it looks like that burden is mostly on you,” she said smugly. “Imagine that.” She managed to shrug. “Dean has spent his entire life cleaning up your messes, no? Perhaps if you can manage to do the same for him, his life as he knew it can be restored.”

Castiel’s hand loosened unconsciously as he and Sam absorbed the meaning behind her words.

She took her opportunity, and in another flash of green light, she was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've missed little!Dean! Sorry it has been so long since an update, I hope the length of this chapter helps to make up for it. And I'm sorry, but Sam and Cas won't stop cutely touching each other. Will not get explicit, but these two seem to have formed a bond.  
> Enjoy!

Castiel’s eyebrows rose when he entered the hotel room the next day, not quite sure what to make of what he was seeing. Little boy laughter filled the room, and Castiel hadn’t seen a smile that big on Sam’s face in quite a while.

Sam was standing in the middle of the room, the backs of his knees up against the large bed, and he had a miniature monkey hanging off of him.

No. Not a monkey.

Dean.

Dean hung down Sam’s back, his little legs wrapped around Sam’s shoulders, ankles gripped securely in Sam’s big hands. Dean was giggling and smacking Sam’s butt, and Castiel tilted his head to get a better look. It was then that Sam noticed him, and gave Castiel a huge grin that incited ridiculous fluttering sensations within his abdomen.

Dean grabbed onto Sam’s belt loops and in an instant had wiggled himself around to Sam’s front, now hanging off of Sam’s biceps, his small arms looped around Sam’s upper arm. “Hi, Castell!” Dean shouted excitedly.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel responded, still trying to figure out the game. “Sam.”

Sam gave him a bashful smile, and swiftly caught Dean onto his hip. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel cleared his throat. “What. Um. That is to say, what is-“

“I cwimb Sammy wike pwaygwound!” Dean declared, shoving his cheek lovingly into Sam’s shoulder while grinning at Cas. “You should twy it, Castell! It’s fun!”

“Uh.” Castiel thought that this scene would surely look different if it were him climbing all over Sam instead of this small version of Dean, and he pushed the thought away when it made his stomach feel funny again. He shook out the image and relayed to Sam what he had found out. “The witch has left. She is no longer in the vicinity.”

Sam halted Dean’s playful, fidgety movements. “As in, completely gone?” There were always supernatural threats to worry about, but…Sam flinched and held Dean tighter as he remembered the burn that bitch had cast upon his baby brother’s skin. “For how long?”

“I am afraid I cannot answer that, Sam.” Castiel said regretfully. “But for now, she has vanished.” His brows came together. “I’m not certain she posed a threat-“

“She burned his skin.” Sam rubbed Dean’s arm, fresh and smooth, no sign of his previous burn anywhere on his skin. But Sam didn’t need a physical reminder. “She-“

Castiel held up a hand. “I know.” His own vessel vibrated with leftover anger at hearing Dean’s cries. “I should clarify; I only meant that Dean’s life is not in danger. Not from her, anyway.”

Sam and Castiel had spent that night after meeting the witch cuddling Dean and mulling over the witch’s words, puzzling out what they each thought she had meant. Eventually coming to the conclusion that Dean would have to learn to be dependent before he could ever again be independent, they had vowed to protect him while giving him the best damn childhood they could. “Okay,” Sam exhaled.

Castiel had a moment of regret at barging in on the Winchester brothers’ good time, and hated that he was the one that had taken the grin on Sam’s face and replaced it with concern. “Sam,” Castiel said, laying a hand on Sam’s arm where it still held onto Dean. “It would be in Dean’s best interest and ours as well, if we, as much as it pains me to say it, do what she said.”

Sam swallowed, hard.

Castiel pushed on. “We give Dean the best childhood we can. Then hopefully, as he learns to trust us as his caretakers and we trust each other as we look after Dean, he will be back to his normal, adult self.” Castiel looked around the room, hoping to find more of those brochures that Sam had waved in front of him earlier, when they had found the carnival. “We just need to act like regular parents who want their child to have a good time.” Castiel couldn’t quite read the expression on Sam’s face at that, but he walked over to the table, where several little pamphlets were laid out. He had a strange itching feeling in his arms, almost as if he wished he were the one holding Dean for a little while, but ignored it as a weird quirk of physicality due to his vessel.

A paper was pushed in front of his face, and Castiel’s heart melted a little bit at the wistfulness in Sam’s voice. “Pumpkin patch,” Sam said, almost tentatively, as though he were afraid of how Castiel would react. He wished, only for a moment, that Sam could be small too; that Castiel could shoulder the responsibility alone and let both Winchesters be little.

Castiel was pulled from his musings when Sam spoke again. “It’s almost Halloween.” Castiel saw Sam shudder, just a touch, but he pushed on. “We could take Dean pumpkin picking, and let him carve his own jack-o-lantern.”

Castiel softened, and took the brochure from Sam’s hands with a gentle acceptance. Castiel knew a little something about pagan rituals turned human amusements, and surely the brothers had never gotten to do something as carefree as carve a pumpkin for Halloween. “That’s perfect, Sam.” He looked at Dean, showing him the bright orange pumpkin on the front of the pamphlet. “Would you like to go get a pumpkin, Dean?”

“Yeah!” Dean shouted, not really knowing why he was so excited. He jumped from Sam’s arms into Castiel’s. “Pumpin!”

 

 

“Ima pick you the biggest pumpin, Sammy.” Dean declared, leaves crunching underneath his little boots.

Sam had seen a small pair of brown boots at the local department store when they had gone out to get Dean a heavier coat, and couldn’t resist the mini ass-kickers that looked just like the ones his adult brother wore. Dean tromped around in them now, walking around pumpkins, leaves, and brown patches of grass.

Sam smiled. “Thanks, Dean.” He deftly reached out to catch a stumbling Cas, who was weaving his way through the tangled vines and roots that made up the ground of the large pumpkin patch. “Should have gotten you some boots too, Cas.” Sam joked.

Castiel frowned and straightened, resolutely pulling out of Sam’s grip. He brushed dirt off of his dress slacks and muttered, “Yes. And perhaps some new pants.”

Making a mental note to swing by the same store on the way home to get Cas some jeans and different shoes, Sam increased his pace to catch up with a quickly wandering Dean. “You see one you like, De?”

“I wike dis one, Sammy!” Dean struggled to lift a humongous pumpkin sitting next to an old painted wagon. Sam chuckled as Dean squatted and tried to wrap his arms around it.

“I think that one might be a little big for you, baby.” Sam waved Castiel off when the angel started to help Dean lift up the pumpkin. “We need to find you one that’s more your size.”

Dean looked up at him, puzzled. “But it’s _your_ size, Sammy.”

Damned if Sam’s heart didn’t melt for the hundredth time since meeting his little Dean. “Okay, De. That one can be mine.” Sam hefted the pumpkin into their wooden cart. “Find a smaller one that you can carve, okay?” He nudged Castiel, bumping their shoulders together. “You should get one too, Cas.” Dean’s eyes lit up at the idea that all three of them would carve their pumpkins together.

“I have never before carved a pumpkin, Sam.”

“First time for everything then, right angel?” Adult Dean’s nickname for Castiel slipped out of Sam’s mouth before he could stop it. He immediately felt his cheeks glowing bright red, and not from the autumn cold. Dammit, what was it about Dean being little that-

“Yes, Sam.” Castiel reached down to grip the little hand that Dean offered up, the little boy now on a mission to find a pumpkin for himself and for Cas. “There is.” He smiled warmly at Sam, then allowed himself to be pulled further into the tangle of pumpkins by their little charge.

Sam swallowed, wrapped his hands around the handle of their cart, and followed his family.

 

“Sammy! I wanna go on nat!” Dean tugged on Sam’s hand and pointed to an enormous wooden tractor cart, covered in hay bales and littered with pumpkins.

“I do not understand,” Castiel stated, frowning at the large tractor setup.

Sam smiled. “It’s a hayride.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I cannot see its function.”

Sam swung Dean up onto his hip and walked them towards the line to get on the hayride. “There is no ‘function’, Cas. You ride around the pumpkin patch, sitting on the hay bales, driven by a noisy tractor while ingesting all the sights and sounds of fall.” Sam started to dig into his pocket, but then noticed the ‘Free Hayride With Pumpkin Purchase!” sign. He nudged Cas, and dug out his wallet. “Come on, it will be fun.”

Cas still looked skeptical.

Sam uttered the one sentence that would convince Cas, whether to ride a hayride or take a rocket to the moon. “Dean wants to go.”

“Let’s go on a hay wide, Castell!” Dean shouted.

Castiel’s mouth turned up at the corner, and he took the cart from Sam and guided then to the cash register. “Yes, Dean. Let’s.”

 

Sam juggled Dean and handed some bills to the cashier for their three pumpkins, two cups of apple cider-he and Dean shared one- and some cinnamon almonds for Cas. He pocketed his change and turned. “Okay, Dean, ready to go on a hayride?”

“Yeah!” Dean exclaimed excitedly.

Sam looked down at their cart, frowning.

“Don’t worry,” the girl behind the counter said. “I’ll put your name on it and keep it back here while you guys ride. No problem.”

Sam shot her a grateful look, then shifted Dean to his other hip and led them to the hay-laden tractor trailer.  The tractor driver smiled at them as they climbed on. Surprisingly, there weren’t a whole lot of other people on it, and the moment Sam set Dean down, he ran around the trailer, climbing all over the different hay bales.

“It’s scwatchy, Sammy!”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “Indeed it is,” he agreed grimly.

Sam chuckled and threw his arm companionably around Cas. “Yeah,” he said. “Definitely need to get you some jeans.”

 

Dean shouted with excitement the minute the huge tractor engine revved up. He ran to the front of the trailer, leaning over to look at the big machine that would tow them around.

“Woah there, Dean.” Sam reached out and caught Dean as he leaned over the edge. “Take a seat, bud.” Sam planted Dean in between his long legs, figuring that was good enough since Dean didn’t seem the least bit inclined to sit down.

“We up so high, Sammy!” Dean held onto Sam’s knees and peered around, watching the scenery of the little farm roll by. He tilted his head towards the _chug chug chug_ of the tractor, a huge smile lighting up his face. He let go of Sam’s legs and clambered onto Castiel’s lap, looking over the angel’s shoulder, fully confident in the sure, strong angel hands that wrapped around his waist. “It’s so bumpy! Bumpier than the impala.”

Sam rolled his eyes humorously. Dean couldn’t say Castiel’s name or pronounce his R's and L’s to save his life, but he knew the name of his car.

Feeling a funny warmth at seeing Dean so happy in the arms of his angel, Sam reached over and ruffled Dean’s hair. Taking a full, deep breath of refreshing, crisp, fall air, Sam spread his arms across the back of his seat and let his head fall back, soaking up the autumn sunshine.

 

An hour later, as they made their way back to the car, Sam asked, “Hey, Dean, you ready for some dinner?” It was early, only five o’clock, but Sam figured after all this activity that they would all be hungry once they got back to the hotel.

Dean didn’t respond. He was sound asleep against Castiel’s shoulder, two fingers shoved into his mouth while the other hand was wrapped tightly around the lapel of Cas’s trench coat. Sam’s gaze softened, watching Dean’s back rise and fall with steady breaths as one of Castiel’s hands rubbed his back.

“The afternoon seems to have worn Dean out,” Castiel observed.

“Yeah.” Sam smiled. Knowing Dean, he would wake up the moment he spotted or smelled food. They walked to the car, Sam stowing the pumpkins in the trunk while Castiel swiftly deposited Dean into his car seat without waking the little boy up. Sam slid into the driver’s seat, impressed, while he waited for Cas to round the car.

Struck with a sudden idea for dinner, Sam pulled out his cell phone before starting the impala. With all the help he had given them lately, Cas deserved to know that better food existed than just fast food and pizza. Remembering a string of restaurants he had seen near the hotel, Sam keyed in one of the websites and tapped out an online order.

“Sam?” Castiel prompted. “You must start the car in order to maneuver it, yes?”

Sam hit “submit order” on his phone before chuckling and tossing it into his coat pocket. He turned the key in the ignition. “Yeah, Cas. Thanks.” Smiling at his surprise, he pulled out of the pumpkin patch parking lot and headed back towards their temporary home.

 

Sam pulled the impala into the restaurant’s parking lot.

“This is not the hotel,” Castiel stated. The sun had just started to set behind the horizon, rays of pink and orange spilling in through the car windows.

Sam glanced into the backseat, where Dean was still sleeping, one cheek smushed against the side of his car seat, and one of his boots untied. Sam turned to Cas. “Can you watch Dean for a second? I’m just gonna run in and grab us some food.” Cas nodded, and Sam hurried into the restaurant, turning his coat collar up against the autumn chill.

 

Sam smoothly swerved into the hotel’s parking lot, cutting the engine and once more looking back at Dean, who was starting to stir. “Cas, do you mind taking Dean in and changing his clothes?” Sam would hop in the shower with his brother later, but for now he wanted to haul in the food bags and set up dinner for Cas.

“Of course not, Sam.” Castiel unbuckled himself then adeptly did the same for Dean, who molded himself willingly into Castiel’s arms, still half asleep.

Sam unlocked first the fancy outer doors of the old hotel, then the door to their room after a quiet elevator ride. He would go back down for the pumpkins later. There was still a week until Halloween.

While Castiel gently coaxed Dean awake, alternately speaking and singing to him softly while changing him on one of the beds, Sam set up their dinner on the little table in the room. He had ordered two steaks, complete with loaded baked potatoes and fresh, green salads. Sam had even sprung for a bottle of red wine, glad that the restaurant had also offered alcohol as a carryout option.

Jess’s family had taken him out on a couple of fancy dinners, and he had gone on that one really nice date with Sarah Blake…but other than that, Sam Winchester did not know much about fine dining. Not that that’s what this was, but any break from fast food was a good one.

He wasn’t setting up a romantic dinner. He was just showing his appreciation for Cas’s help and support.

Yeah.

Sam cut off a quarter of his steak to cut into little pieces, setting them and a good pile of greens onto a little plate for Dean. Grabbing two Styrofoam cups meant for coffee, Sam poured two servings of wine, and got juice out of the fridge for Dean.

He heard Cas take Dean into the bathroom, and Sam used the time to plug in his phone and also check his cash balance, which wasn’t much. He would have to figure something out for that, but that could wait until tomorrow.

Sam heard the swift padding of little feet and looked down just in time to see Dean standing in front of his chair. “I’m hungwy, Sammy.”

Sam lifted Dean onto his lap and pulled the little plate forward. “Me too, De. Eat up! Sammy got steak tonight.”

Dean dug into his food furiously, picking up the small steak bites in his fingers and shoving them into his mouth. Telling himself how much adult Dean would have appreciated this meal, Sam cleared his throat nervously and looked up at Cas, who had yet to sit down.

“This smells heavenly, Sam.” Cas looked around. “Yet it does not appear to have come from a bag soaked in grease.”

Sam cringed, but took the comment for the simple fact that it was. “Yeah, I thought that after the last few days, we could use a good meal.” Sam pushed the other chair out from the table with his boot in invitation. “You ever had a real steak, Cas?”

 

“And nen I saw lots of pumpins, but they weren’t our pumpins, Sammy, so we walked by dem, and nen I foun’ your BIG pumpin, and nen I held Castell’s hand cuz you said I can’t go pwaces wifout holding your hand, and nen me and Castell find two MORE pumpins, Sammy, so we all have a pumpin!” Dean chattered away as he stood in the shower with Sam, obediently tilting his head back and closing his eyes while Sam shampooed his hair, his mouth running a mile a minute, recounting the day’s events to Sam lest his brother had forgotten.

“We had a good day, didn’t we, Dean? Did you like the pumpkin patch?” Sam cupped his hands and dumped water onto Dean’s head while supporting his little brother’s body with his shins.

“Yeah, Sammy!” Dean wiped his hands all over his face to rid himself of excess water, then looked up at Sam. “Do you fink Castell had fun?”

Sam dipped his own head under the spray, lathering suds into his hair. “Yeah, Dean. I think he loved it.” Recalling the way Castiel’s eyes had closed in pleasure at the table, Sam felt more than a hint of pride that Castiel had fully enjoyed his dinner, too.

Pushing those thoughts away since he was sharing a shower with his three year old brother, Sam soaped them both down and rinsed them off before shutting of the water and wrapping Dean in a warm, fluffy towel.  “Bedtime for you, baby boy,” Sam ordered gently as he wrapped a towel around his own waist.

Dean stood while Sam dried off his hair, and held onto Sam’s arms as he stepped into his Lightning McQueen pajamas. “It’s Halloween, Sammy?”

“Almost, De. In a few days.” Sam tugged the shirt over Dean’s head, lifting his sleepy brother into bed. Castiel reclined in the nearby chair, sans trench coat, his top two buttons undone, watching the brothers with a soft smile on his face. Turning back to Dean, Sam said, “We will carve our pumpkins tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean nodded, his eyes already half-closed. “You sweep wiv me?”

“Yeah, baby.” Sam ran a hand over Dean’s hair. “In a minute. Just gotta get ready for bed.” He tucked Dean into the huge bed, surrounding him in blankets before heading back to the bathroom to change.

“Cas!” Dean screamed, and in a heartbeat Sam and Cas were both darting for the bed.

“Dean?” Castiel inquired.

“Dean! What’s wrong?” Sam asked frantically. Lately Dean had rarely been using his adult nickname for Castiel.

“Castell sing to me.” Dean said plainly, all trace of urgency gone from his tone.

“What?” Sam gripped his towel, keeping it firmly around his waist as he bent over Dean.

“Sammy always says ‘wait’ when I go to bed. So Castell awways sing to me, an’ I wait fo’ Sammy.” Dean explained.

Oh, Jesus. Sam had lived through werewolves, vampire, a demon blood addiction, and several kidnappings, but it would be his little brother’s innocence and sweetness that would be the death of him.

Before he could say anything, Castiel had already kicked off his shoes, climbing into bed beside Dean as if he had been doing it his entire life.

Maybe there is something to this whole guardian angel thing, Sam thought.

He drifted towards the bathroom, pajama shorts in hand, his mind and body relaxed from the heat of his shower and the tone of Castiel’s voice, humming softly in Enochian to his baby brother in a tune that soon had Dean’s eyes falling shut, his breaths secure and even, his little hand twisted into the fabric of Castiel’s shirtsleeve.

When he emerged five minutes later, he crawled into bed on Dean’s other side, curling himself around the small body in the middle of the bed. Dean was already sound asleep, his angel on one side and his big brother on the other.

Knowing that Castiel didn’t really sleep, Sam whispered, “Thanks for always laying down with Dean.” He pulled the blankets over his naked torso, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric as well as Dean’s tiny breaths against his skin.

“Thank you for letting me,” Cas replied softly.

And just like a few nights before, their fingers met over the middle of Dean’s body, lightly tangling together as Sam started to join his brother into sleep.

Just before he fully succumbed, he heard Castiel humming the same tune he had moments earlier for Dean, only this time it was for Sam.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Dean and Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I"m a day late on the Halloween festivities, okay more like two because Little!Dean and his trick or treating escapades won't get posted until tomorrow. Hopefully with the cuteness you'll forgive me? Okay great thanks. Love this little guy, hope you enjoy. And that Sastiel, man. That Sastiel

 “Dean,” Sam murmured sleepily the morning before Halloween. “Get off.” There was a heavy weight against his side. Sam snuggled further into the sheets, and into the warm body next to him. “Mmm, not time to get up yet.” Contrary to his words, Sam burrowed his face against Dean’s stubbly cheek, his neck, seeking the warmth and strength that the body next to his provided.

Sam was _this close_ to drifting back asleep when his eyes widened in alarm.

Dean was three.

Three year olds didn’t have stubbled cheeks.

Or muscular shoulders.

Or startling blue eyes.

“Cas,” Sam breathed, once he had registered just which warm body he had snuggled into.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel rumbled, in that gravelly voice of his that Sam now knew was even rougher in the morning.

Sam pulled away, immediately missing the warmth, while chastising himself for chasing it in the first place. “I’m sorry, I thought-“

“Dean slept well,” Cas interrupted, either ignoring or possibly completely ignorant of, Sam’s nervousness. The angel glanced down at the tiny body sleeping atop his naked torso. “Still is, in fact.”

Sam took in the scene in front of him. Castiel laid on his back, Dean sprawled across his chest, rising and falling with each breath that Cas took. The weight that Sam had felt against his side had been the entire left side of Castiel’s body pressed against his, and at some point during the night Cas had ditched his shirt and his belt. Dean slept peacefully, draped across Castiel’s bare chest, and Sam’s eyes dropped down to Castiel’s hips, where his pants rode low and unbuttoned.

“Perhaps I should-“

“No.” Sam cut him off. _Don’t move._ “Don’t move. Let…” Sam infinitesimally relaxed back against Castiel’s side, wanting that secure warmth again, trying to make it seem like nothing. “Let Dean sleep.” Because Sam felt warmer, safer, with their angel by his side, and dammit, he wasn’t above using his innocent little brother as a buffer.

Sam swore that Castiel’s lip curved upwards, but he must have imagined it because Castiel turned away from him then, gazing at the blankness of the ceiling, and whispered, “Very well.”

Sam’s forehead pressed against Castiel’s shoulder, and he told himself he was just readjusting his head on the pillow to find a more comfortable position in which to fall back asleep. “Carving pumpkins today.” Sam frowned into that steady, strong shoulder. “Don’t have a costume for Dean. Bad brother.”

Sam found his fingers suddenly wrapped in the same warmth that was now surrounding his body, and he coasted back into sleep while listening to Cas murmur soothing words, keeping a watchful eye on both Winchesters as they slept.

 

Later that evening, Sam had just fed Dean his dinner when Cas fluttered into their room. "I gathered what seem to be common costume choices for little boys." Castiel emptied his arms and dropped a pile of garments onto the bed. Sam raised his eyebrows, taking in the assortment of clothes and accessories for three costumes- a fireman, a superhero and a cowboy. 

"Hawo-ween costumes!" Dean jumped onto the bed, tossing the clothes around so he could see what Cas brought. 

"Cas. How did you get the money for these?" Sam asked. He shivered. Damn, but he hated Halloween.

Cas shifted beneath Sam's gaze, not yet answering, choosing instead to watch Dean dig through his new disguises. 

Sam watched nervously as Dean picked up the fireman coat, hoping it wouldn't trigger his brother into any bad memories. Technically Dean had been four when their mom had died and their house caught fire, but this regression was hitting Dean in some weird ass ways and Sam wanted to be prepared in case Dean had another meltdown. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Dean simply tossed the coat aside, picking up the fake holster and gun instead. 

"You and Dean have kept this world safe for years. The very least he deserves is to be able to trick or treat like a normal child."

Sam watched Dean make shooting noises as he pointed the little gun around the room. Sam plopped the cowboy hat onto Dean's head. "You stole these." 

"I procured them through subversive means."

"You stole them." But Sam's mouth curved when Dean smiled at him from beneath the wide brim of his cowboy hat. 

"I wanna be a cowboy, Sammy!"

Cas shot Sam a sneaky smile, and dammit that angel knew what he was doing all along, Sam thought, when Cas said, "He wants to be a cowboy, Sam," trying not to laugh. 

Sam ducked when Cas tried to put a matching cowboy hat on Sam's head. "Oh hell no. I don't do Halloween."

"Yay!" Dean cheered. "Sammy be a cowboy too!" 

"I agree, Dean. Sam should be a cowboy too." Cas conspired. "You already wear jeans every day,” he told Sam. “And the shirt I grabbed for Dean matches one of yours." 

"What a coincidence," Sam said dryly. He was already convinced- the smile that lit up Dean's face at the thought of Sam being a cowboy with him pretty much sealed the deal- but he wasn’t about to let Cas off the hook so quickly. "Okay. I'll do it. On one condition."

"Yay!" Dean shouted again, throwing himself at Sam, who just barely caught Dean's plastic gun before it fumbled from his hands. Sam reached up to remove his cowboy hat from his head, placing it on top of Cas's dark mop of hair. "You're getting another one of these and going as a cowboy too, angel."

"Cowboy Castell!" Dean giggled. Considering the matter settled, he twisted in Sam's arms. "We cut pumpins now Sammy?"

 

"Watch your fingers, Dean," Castiel scolded mildly. Sam was cutting the tops off of their pumpkins with a large knife, getting them ready to be scooped out, and Dean was proving to be a little too enthusiastic. 

"Knives, blades, guns...they've never been much of a deterrent for Dean," Sam noted without looking up, trusting Cas to watch Dean. "Rather it's like they have a special Dean Winchester magnet in them. Dude has a real hard-on for weapons." Sam glanced over at pint-sized Dean, spoon in hand, ready to scoop out "pumpin guts." Sam had convinced Cas to trade his normal dress shirt for one of adult Dean's tees, knowing this could get messy. "Guess the spell didn't change that."

"Dean is a fighter," Cas agreed. 

"Yep." Sam set aside the tops and set the smallest pumpkin in front of Dean. "He got it from our dad." Sam closed his large hand around Dean's small one, showing him how to shovel out the goopy insides. 

Castiel nodded. "And what did y _ou_ get from him?"

Sam paused mid-scoop, stopped short by Cas's question. 

"Sammy. You sqwishing my hand!" Dean yelped. 

Sam immediately loosened his grip, forced the tension from his shoulders. "Sorry, baby." Sam stepped back as Dean flung pumpkin guts across the table. He turned to Cas. "I don't know. His stubbornness, I guess?" John Winchester could be one hardheaded son of a bitch. "I don't think I really take after him much."

Sam watched his brother dig in to his pumpkin, Dean having quickly ditched the spoon in favor of getting his hands messy. "My dad wasn't usually the one that was around." 

Cas reached for a spoon so he could start on his own pumpkin. "Dean raised you." He scooped out the innards of his pumpkin, placing the orange strings and goopy seeds in a neat pile on the laid out newspapers that protectively covered the table. 

"Yeah," Sam said roughly. He smiled at Dean, who already had orange streaks on his cheeks. "He did." 

"Messy," Dean mumbled as he stuck his head practically inside his pumpkin. 

"And what an impressive job he did." Castiel commented; so matter of fact, but it still made Sam flush. He held out the third spoon to Sam. "Now it's your turn."

 

"My pumpin is cwean, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed some ten minutes later. "But not my hands." He held out his exceedingly messy hands to Sam, wiggling them around. They were covered in pulpy orange strings and coated with seeds. Dean shook them in wide, jerky movements, trying to get the strands off, and in doing so impressively landed one smack on Cas's cheek. 

"Dean." Cas scowled. 

"Oops," Dean whispered. 

Sam snickered. 

Dean looked between them, trying to determine whether or not he was in trouble. 

"You find this amusing?" Castiel asked Sam, peeling the pumpkin strings off his face. 

Sam belted out a laugh, because he had rarely seen Cas look anything but polished. Even after a fight, Cas's countenance was always so stoic, so centered. But here he was with a three year old, elbow deep inside a pumpkin, a fresh orange stain on his cheek. Sam snorted again. "I do."

"Hmm." Castiel hummed, going back to his pumpkin. He dug out a generous spoonful of seedy, stringy insides. "Okay then." Pulling the top of his spoon back, he let it fly at Sam. 

"Dude!" Sam's mouth dropped open. He looked down at the mess on his shirt collar. "You got it in my hair!" 

Cas looked at him, shrugging innocently. "Did I?" 

"Oh, it's on." Sam grabbed a handful of pumpkin insides from one of Dean's piles. He reached out and smushed it against Castiel's chest, getting some of it underneath the collar of his borrowed tee.

"Sammy make Castell messy!" Dean giggled and jumped onto the table, scooping up part of Castiel's pile with both of his little hands. He threw it at Sam, laughing his head off at Sam's look of shock. "Dean make Sammy messy!"

"Looks like Dean is learning behaviors from you as well, Sam," Castiel said with a gleam in his eye.  "Well done." Cas patted him on the arm, purposely swirling pumpkin pulp along Sam's bicep. 

Sam snatched a handful of wet stringy seeds off the table. "Thanks Cas," he said, hugging the angel just to get him messy but enjoying the feeling of Cas in his arms nonetheless. Sam snuck his messy hands up underneath the hem of Cas's shirt, rubbing the goop into Cas's back. "Sweet of you to say." He pulled his arms back and swiped his fingers lightly across Dean's face, staining his little nose orange. 

They were all laughing now, Dean picking up handfuls of pumpkin and gleefully flinging them at Sam and Cas. The bright blue of Cas's eyes shone at Sam like twin ice sparkles, and Sam's breath hitched for a moment as he found himself completely distracted by their crystal depths. 

Allowing Dean's little hand to catch Sam square in the face, smearing pulp and seeds all over Sam's cheeks, nose, and mouth. Sam raked a hand down his face to clear it and found Dean grinning and standing on the table, one of Castiel's arms holding him up while the other had clearly helped Dean lift his hand high enough to get Sam's face. 

Castiel jiggled Dean's messy hand to make it wave. "Hi, Sammy," Cas mimicked, in a rare moment of complete silliness, grinning. 

"Blaming the child. Nice, Cas." But Sam smiled warmly, and he loved his older brother, with all his heart, but he honestly couldn’t remember a time he had felt this relaxed, this happy. Dean’s smiles, his giggles, these normal childish activities that should have been a part of Sam and Dean’s upbringing, the way Dean snuggled against him without reservation, the way Dean needed him, the way Cas looked at him now…

There was no other explanation needed. Sam Winchester was happy.

"Sammy!" Dean jumped off the table and into Sam's arms, smacking his hands against Sam's cheeks. "We carwve now?"

Sam shared a smile with Cas and settled Dean into a chair. "Yeah, Dean. We carve now."

 

“And nen it go bwwoooooooom, an’ bad guy want impala to dwive off cwiff, Sammy, but impala no dive off cwiff because impala is the bestest.” Dean sat in the bathtub, gliding a tiny black model car through a mountain of bubbles.

“Mm hmm,” Sam agreed, using a soapy washcloth to rid Dean’s face of its orange pumpkin stains. He half-listened to Dean’s automobile monologue as he tried to get his baby brother clean. Sending a silent thanks to Cas for picking up more bubble bath, Sam scrubbed Dean clean.

As if his prayer had conjured the angel up, Sam heard a light knock on the bedroom door. “Yeah. Come in.”

Castiel entered the bathroom, smiling at Dean as the toddler played with his bath toys. Sam wiped his sweaty forehead on the one section of his shirt sleeve that wasn’t covered in pumpkin and didn’t even look at Cas, still trying to wash Dean. “What’s up, Cas?” Sam’s arm shot out and barely caught Dean from slipping as he fumbled around in the bubbles for a missing toy.

“I apologize, Sam, but even if I shower when you are finished with Dean, I am afraid I cannot reach this spot.”

Sam turned and took in an almost naked Castiel, standing in the bathroom in only a pair of white boxers. Sam fumbled inwardly for only a few seconds, before smirking and stating, “You started it.”

“Castell awl dirty!” Dean exclaimed. He looked up at his angel. “You wanna take a baff wiv me?”

Sam chuckled, and Cas answered smoothly, “That’s quite alright, Dean. I will take my turn after you.” He looked at Sam imploringly.

Sam dipped the washcloth into the sudsy bath. “Play with your toys for a few minutes, Dean. We will finish up in a sec.” He stood and gently turned Cas around so that he could clean him off.

Sam will never, ever know what made him ask, with Dean playing cars in his bath bubbles just a few feet away and these odd feelings in Sam’s stomach whenever the air around him and Castiel got just a little too quiet, but he did anyway. “Where are your wings, Cas?” One of Sam’s hands held steady on Cas’s hip while the other gently scraped off the dried pumpkin bits from Castiel’s lower back.

Castiel’s head turned sideways and a little backwards to address Sam. “They are inside me.” At Sam’s confused expression, he continued. “Jimmy Novak has a strong vessel, but no human body is equipped with wings. They only show when my true form shows as well.”

Sam swiped the washcloth along Cas’s skin –not Jimmy’s, to him this was Cas- a few more times than was necessary before tossing it back into the tub. “You’re all set.” If Dean hadn’t been sitting in suds just a few feet away, Sam would have stared into those blue eyes all night long.

As it was, he dropped back to his knees and dumped water over Dean’s hair so he could wash it.

“Enjoy your bath, Dean.” Castiel said, thrusting his arms through his white dress shirt for the time being.

“You sing to me, Cas?” Dean asked, his eyes shut, head tipped back while Sam shampooed his hair. “When I go to sweep?”

“I’ll sing to you, Dean.” Cas promised. “Tonight, and every night that you need me.”

Sam ignored him as he exited the bathroom, too choked up to speak.

Castiel had learned quickly the younger Winchester’s propensity for tears, so he just left Sam to quietly care for his brother, waiting his turn for the bathroom.

And when Sam curled up in bed later that night, next to Dean and his angel, he didn’t even think twice at reaching out for a hand to twine with his own over the sleeping body of his sweet little brother.  


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tantrum-throwing Dean, stubborn Cas, angry Sam, sugar high Dean...yeah. Halloween with Sastiel and Little Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Little Dean is trick or treating (although a week late. Oops.) and since it's Halloween, of course this little family can't do Halloween without something shaking things up. Sorry for the delay, nice long chapter to make up for it :) Hope you enjoy

“Hmm,” Sam pursed his lips in the middle of Target, alternately holding up two different colored long-sleeved, button-up shirts to Cas’s torso.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Is this truly necessary. Really.”

Sam glared at him. “Hey. You’re the one forcing me to be a cowboy. The least you can do is-“

“I am not ‘forcing’ you-“

“You know what I mean.” Yeah, Sam was totally going to dress up for Halloween because Dean wanted him to. And really, all he needed to look like a cowboy was the stupid hat Castiel had bought him and a pair of cowboy boots and he was good to go, so it wasn’t really a stretch from his daily wardrobe to dress up as such, but if he was doing it, then dammit so was Cas.

Plus Sam had vowed to buy Cas new clothes anyway, because constantly looking after a three year old in dress slacks and a pure white collared shirt just wasn’t practical. And he couldn’t keep borrowing Dean’s clothes, seeing as how Dean could grow back to his adult size any day.

Yeah, Sam thought. He wasn’t counting on that happening anytime soon.

Still, he held up the two shirts. “What do you think, Dean?”

Dean was seated in the front of the cart, making engine noises and smashing two of his toy cars together, his stuffed moose from the carnival in his lap. “I’m pwaying, Sammy.”

Sam eyed the two choices against Cas’s chest carefully again before tossing one aside. “Blue. Definitely the blue one.” It brought out Castiel’s eyes, not that Sam would ever comment on something like that aloud. “Go try this on, with the jeans we picked.”  Sam steered their cart in front of the fitting rooms.

Two minutes later, Cas emerged wearing soft, dark denim jeans, a white tee shirt, and the cobalt blue dress casual shirt layered over top. He had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and he hadn’t fastened the top two buttons. Looking hesitantly over at Sam for approval, Cas fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Well?” he asked, somewhat nervously. “It’s a wonder humans accomplish anything. Shopping for clothes and procuring food are extremely time consuming tasks.”

Sam didn’t disagree, but he also couldn’t bash clothes shopping at the moment, not when the end result of the process looked so damn good on Cas.

“Sam?” Cas prodded, shuffling a bit. “Shall I take them?”

“Yes,” Sam responded immediately. “Yeah. Those. Those are good.” He distracted himself by checking on Dean while Cas went back into the small stall to change again.

Grabbing two other similar shirts, as well as an assortment of colored tees and two more pairs of those jeans that looked like they molded themselves to Castiel like they couldn’t get enough of him, Sam then headed to the clearance shoe area.

Because what were a group of cowboys without some cowboy boots?

 

“Twick or tweat!” Dean yelled excitedly as yet another front door opened.

Sam and Cas had found a nice looking neighborhood that wasn’t too far of a drive from their hotel, and once they had all decked themselves out in jeans, western shirts, cowboy hats and boots- Dean’s had little plastic spurs- they had set out with Dean and his ghost bucket to collect candy.

“I pwotect us, Sammy!” Dean had told him, holstering his plastic gun.

“Yeah,” Sam winked at Cas, sticking his own- very real- gun into the back of his waistband. “I will too.” He had taken Dean’s hand and they had set out. “Let’s go get ‘em, cowboy.”

Now they made their way through pleasant streets and charming cul-de-sacs, teaching Dean the perks of Halloween as they enjoyed watching other little kids traipse about in their costumes.

At about the tenth house, Dean walked up the steps at the same time as a little girl. Sam couldn’t quite tell what she was dressed as…an elf? A fairy? The two of them knocked on the door at the same time as Sam and Cas waited at the end of the block with a pretty young woman wearing a black tail, thin whiskers painted on her face.

“Oh, a little cowboy! How adorable!” She squealed, watching Dean accept candy alongside her little girl. She took in the two men standing next to her. “And his cowboy daddies! A whole family theme. I love it.”

“We are not-“

“Uh, actually, so, I’m his-“

“Riley!” She called out to the little girl, who was lagging along behind Dean. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s getting late.”

“Sammy! Castell! I made a fwend.” Dean exclaimed proudly. “Dis Ri-wey.”

“Ry-LEE!” the little girl said, stomping her little foot, though clearly still enamored with Dean.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized to the woman. “He’s got a speech thing-“

“Oh, please.” The woman waved a hand, crouching down to the same level as the kids. “He’s adorable. What’s your name, cutie?”

Dean scooted a little closer to Sam, but still looked at her. “Dean.” He said, a little quietly. He studied her a moment, then held out his bucket. “You want some of my candy?”

“Oh.” She reached out to cup Dean’s cheek, tickling him a little under his neck. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing.”

“Sammy!” Dean suddenly went wide-eyed, turning to his brother. “Dere was a woman in dat house, and we knock and say ‘twick or tweat’, wike you said so, Sammy, and she wook at us funny, and den a man went ‘rawwwwr!’ and sounded all gwow-wy, wike Castell sound when he wake up, and den she made a mean face and den a mean smile and so me and Ri-wey weave because we don’t wike dem.” He reached his arms up, and Sam scooped him up fast, catching Castiel’s gaze over Dean’s shoulder. “Dey had vampiwre fangs, Sammy! When he growwel his teef show and ney wooked wike weal fangs!” Cas and Sam exchanged a look of uneasiness. Sam darted his eyes towards the house. Cas nodded and disappeared.

“Ugh,” the woman said in disgust, reaching down to take little Riley’s hand. “What kind of person is mean to kids on Halloween? Seriously.” She turned, confused. “Where did your partner go?”

Sam ushered them along, escorting them to the next house. “He’ll catch up. Yeah, you never know with some people. Maybe Dean and Riley want to finish trick or treating together?” Until Cas came back from scouting the suspicious house and give them the all clear, Sam figured this woman and her daughter were better off not being left alone. “Your daughter is adorable,” he said, trying to make polite conversation even though his real focus was elsewhere.

 _Cas. Cas_. Sam channeled their angel as hard as he could. _Could be vampires, Cas. Be careful_. Sam shifted Dean so he sat more securely in Sam’s arms, and crowded closer behind Riley and her mom.

“I’m sure she would love that,” the woman continued, oblivious to Sam’s internal thoughts. “And she’s actually not my daughter, she’s my niece. But thank you.” The woman looked away, a little sad, but smiled again quickly. “Dean is yours? Or his?” She tipped her head back towards where Castiel had disappeared.

“Uh,” Sam set Dean down at the next house, sticking close by as the kids walked up the steps to get their candy buckets filled by a very normal, innocent looking grandma. Dean reached for Sam’s hand as soon as they were done, chatting away with Riley as they walked to another house. “Dean is-“  Sam was just about to come up with an answer that would explain the huge age difference between him and his brother when Dean tugged at his hand. “Sammy? Where Cas go?”  

“He’s just checking on something, baby.” Sam said, saved from answering. He gave Dean a gentle nudge, and gave Riley an encouraging pat. “Let’s go get some more candy!”

But he turned and looked over his shoulder to where Cas had gone, and his stomach took a very unpleasant dip when he still saw no sign of their angel.

 

Being left to take care of a toddler while someone else checked out supernatural threats was not a position that Sam Winchester was at all familiar with, and he was pacing holes in the pavement alongside the impala by the time Cas caught back up with them. Sam had already walked Riley and her aunt home, and Dean was eagerly digging in to his candy when Cas finally returned, relaying what he had found inside the house that had made Dean nervous.

The two exsanguinated bodies in the basement that Cas described to him pretty much confirmed Sam’s suspicions.

“Actual vampires? Are you kidding me?” Sam raged in a hushed whisper, in case any lingering trick or treaters were around. “Vampires. Right in the middle of freakin’ suburbia.” Great. He shifted Dean to his other side, digging out his car keys. “You take Dean back to the motel. I’ll get my stuff from the trunk and gank these assholes.”

“No.” Cas held out a hand, physically stopping Sam in his tracks.

“Excuse me?” Sam started to hand Dean over but for the first time, Cas refused to take the toddler in his arms.

“You will take Dean back to the hotel,” Cas said firmly. “I will take care of the blood suckers.”

“Right. And how many vamps have you killed?” Ridiculous. Cas was an excellent fighter, sure, but Sam was a Winchester, he was a hunter, he was the one-

“Sammy, hewp. I can’t open dis one.” Dean waved a kit kat in front of Sam’s face.

“You are the one that Dean needs in his life, Sam. Not me.” Cas stated firmly, albeit perhaps a bit sadly.

Before Sam knew what was happening, Cas had pressed two fingers to his forehead. Sam instantly found himself standing in the middle of their hotel room, Dean and his candy bucket still in Sam’s arms. “Cas! Dammit, the car-“

“I will come back in the impala. After I have eliminated the vampires.” And with that, he was gone.

“Dammit!” Sam yelled, startling Dean so hard he dropped his candy bucket.

“S’mmy?” Dean still held his unopened kit kat. “We all done twick or tweating?”

Sam closed his eyes and counted to five, directing all his anger mentally towards Cas for leaving him behind, instead of at Dean, where it certainly didn’t belong.  “Yeah, baby. We’re done.”

 

 

“An’ a witch, an’ a ghost, an’ a pwincess. And Ri-wey. Annnnn’….” Dean rattled off the costumes he had seen that night, bouncing at Sam’s feet and consuming all the candy he could fit in his mouth. “An’ a bwack cat!”

“Yeah, Dean. Mmm hmm.” Sam flipped through his phone, alternately switching between the phone and message screens, wanting to get in contact with Cas but knowing he should wait. Making Cas’s phone go off if he was trying to get the drop on a couple of vampires wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.

Dammit! Cas shouldn’t even be out there, Sam should!

“You want my m&ms, Sammy? You want my Weese’s? Ima have dis one.” Dean unwrapped a mini Snickers bar, swallowing it in two bites.

Sam finally ripped his eyes away from his phone, and frowned at his brother. “Dean. How much candy have you had tonight?”

Dean froze, hiding the now empty wrapper behind his back. “Onwy a wittle, Sammy.”

“Yeah,” Sam eyed Dean’s dwindling candy bucket, and the way his baby brother was still bouncing around. “I think you’re done.” He took the plastic ghost pail away from Dean, setting it on top of the tall bureau that housed their clothes.

“No, Sammy, dat’s my candy!” Dean yelled, running to the base of the dresser. “I want it!”

“Sorry, bud,” Sam said absently, picking up his phone again. He really should have heard from Cas by now. “You can have more tomorrow.”

“No!” Dean shouted. “I want more now!” He scrambled against Sam’s legs, looking up at the high perch that held his bucket full of candy.

“Tomorrow. _If_ you behave.” Sam sighed and tossed his phone onto the bed, bending down to pick Dean up.

“No!” Dean fought Sam’s hands. He escaped Sam’s hold and tried to climb his way up Sam’s body. “I wan’ it! I wan’ it! One more, Sammy!”

Sam caught Dean around the waist, carrying him into the bathroom. “No, sir. You’re out of those clothes, into the bathtub, then into bed.”

“ _I want Castell!”_ Dean screamed. “I want my candy an’ I want my Castell!”

 _Yeah, you and me both, buddy._ “Yeah, well, Cas isn’t here, and you are definitely cut off from candy.” Sam deposited Dean onto the toilet. “Go potty, then it’s bath time.”

Dean jumped off the porcelain seat just as quickly as Sam had set him upon it. “No! Don’ have to go! Wanna see Cas!”

Sam turned on the faucet, testing the temperature and plugging up the giant tub. “He’ll be back in a little while, Dean.” He damn well better be, Sam thought. _Where the hell are you, angel_?

“No, now!” Dean argued.

Sam let out a roar of frustration, catching Dean as he tried to escape the bathroom and setting him in between Sam’s legs. Sam bent to pull off Dean’s boots and quickly unbuttoned his little western shirt.

Dean was having none of it.

“No no no no no no!” Dean smacked at Sam’s hands. “No baff! I wan’ candy! And Castell!” He shrieked.

“Dean!” Sam dodged the weak blows, but struggled to keep Dean still. “I don’t know where this bad behavior is coming from, but knock it off right now!” He got Dean’s shirt off, and in the split second it took to toss it aside, Dean ran out of the bathroom wearing only his cowboy hat and jeans.

“Dean!” Sam uttered a curse under his breath and chased after his brother. “Get back here! I am not playing!” He found Dean huddled in between the bed and the nightstand, clutching his stuffed moose to his chest. The moose Castiel had won for him. “Dean,” Sam sighed, putting all his effort into gentling his voice. Sam was hit with twin pangs of guilt and compassion- all the excitement of the evening plus Castiel vanishing had to have Dean confused, not to mention he was probably picking up on Sam’s shitty mood. “Come on, baby. Bath, then bed.” Dean was on such a tired, cranky sugar rush that Sam knew once he was immersed in warm water and warm sheets that Dean would have no trouble falling asleep.

Unless Cas wasn’t back by then…

“No baff.” Dean pouted.

“Yes, bath.” Sam countered. He thrust both arms under Dean’s body and lifted him up sideways, spreading his palm across Dean’s belly. Because Sam was bigger, dammit, and he was not about to lose to a three year old, even if that three year old was his formerly badass older brother.

It took another full five minutes but Sam finally had Dean stripped down and ready to get into the tub.

“Put Moose down, Dean. You don’t want him to get wet.”

Dean stood at the lip of the tub, shaking his head vehemently. “No. Moose need baff too.”

Sam pursed his lips, silently counted to five, and cursed Castiel for the tenth time in as many minutes. “We can wash him tomorrow, Dean. If you want to sleep with him, you can’t get him all wet now.”

Dean stuck out his lip, holding Moose tighter.

“Dean.”

Nope.

“Dean.”

Pout.

“Dean!”

“Sam.”

Sam’s head whipped around at the ragged voice that had said his name.

“Castell!” Dean launched himself at his angel, stuffed moose forgotten.

Castiel’s pained grunt as he caught Dean, and the mess of blood on his shirt, made Sam’s forehead crease with worry. “Cas?” Sam shut off the faucet and stood.

“I am fine. It’s not mine.” Cas winced when Dean threw his weight against him to be picked up. Sam growled, and Cas admitted, “Okay, it’s not _all_ mine.” He tried to hold Dean away from his body to prevent the little boy from getting covered in blood. “They hit nothing vital,” Castiel reassured. He shifted Dean to one arm and held open the right side of his shirt, revealing an eight inch long gash cutting vertically down his ribcage. “I used up most of my strength in the altercation, and then to get the impala back here with me. I was in a hurry to get back to you and Dean.” He gently set Dean down, and when Dean protested and tried to jump again, Sam caught his arm to keep him from accidentally hurting Cas further. “Not to mention they nicked me a few times with my angel blade.” Most of Sam’s anger drained away when Cas leaned weakly against the sink. “I am afraid I do not have enough grace left to heal myself as swiftly as I normally would.”

Holding Dean around the waist in one arm, Sam used his other to guide Cas to the closed toilet. “Sit down. Dean, can you be a good boy and stay with Cas for me? I’ll be right back.” Dean shoved two fingers worriedly in his mouth but gave Sam a shaky nod, and laid his head on Castiel’s knee. “I hewp you, Castell.” He said quietly.

“Thank you, little one.” Sam saw Cas tiredly run a hand down Dean’s cheek just before he left the bathroom. He was back in less than ten seconds, only having grabbed his first aid kit from his bag.

“Take your shirt off, Cas.” Sam took antiseptic, bandages, and medical tape out of the kit. He looked down at Dean, shuddering at the faint smears of blood on Dean’s skin, his stomach dropping even though he knew Dean wasn’t actually bleeding. “Dean, get in the tub, baby.”

Dean shook his head, and reached for Castiel’s hand. “No, Sammy. I hewp Castell.”

“Oh, Dean.” Cas ran a hand through Dean’s hair. “Thank you.” He looked up at Sam, the two of them exchanging a soft smile. “But you should listen to your brother.”

Sam cleared his throat, his eyes a little wet. Dean vehemently shook his head at Cas, his little hand clutching Cas’s knee. Sam swallowed, hard.

“It is not that bad, Sam.” Cas said quietly. “In fact, given some time, I am sure I can heal it. Overnight, perhaps.”

“Maybe so,” Sam’s chest tightened. He didn’t like seeing Cas even the least bit broken. And to know it was to help protect him and Dean… “But for now, we can’t let that gash get infected.” He held up a white cotton pad, soaked in antiseptic. “Sorry, angel, but this might sting a bit.”

Cas hissed through his teeth when the alcohol hit his skin, reflexively shifting his body away from the source of the pain.

Sam held one hand firmly against Cas’s chest to keep him steady, while the other gently cleaned the wound. “Almost done, Cas.”

“Castell has a hurwt.” Dean said sadly.

“It is nothing, Dean.” Cas reassured, wincing when Sam’s cloth hit his skin once more. “Merely a scratch.”

Sam muttered something under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Cas asked.

Sam threw the bloody rag into the trash, and grabbed another one to clean and dry the cut. He grunted again.

“You are upset with me.”

Sam’s hands were gentle, but his tone was not. “You’re damn right I’m upset with you. What the hell were you thinking, Cas? Zapping me back here while you took them on alone?”

“I couldn’t let them hurt Dean. Or you. I needed to-“

“You needed to let me help, dammit!” Sam said angrily, tossing the second cloth into the trash and grabbing clean gauze pads. “I’m not some damsel in distress that needs saving.”

“Sammy?” Dean asked, worried over Sam and Cas’s rising voices.

He went ignored. “Of course you are not a damsel in distress, Sam. You are very much a male.” Cas stated plainly.

“Not what I meant, Cas.” Sam ripped strips of medical tape off the roll with his teeth, using them to secure the three gauze pads it took to cover Cas’s wound. “Besides, any vamps strong enough to get your own angel blade away from you…” Sam cursed again.

“I appreciate the compliment, Sam. But with Dean so vulnerable, you are very much mistaken if you believe I will stand idly by and give him a chance to lose you.”

Sam yanked the faucet on, angrily rubbing his hands together in the sink. “So, what, we are supposed to be okay with losing you?”

“If it comes to it, yes.” Cas said calmly. He shrugged all the way out of his shirt, using it to clean a few minor angel blade nicks along his arms. “I have always been prepared to give my life to save the Winchesters.”

Sam jammed the sink tap down, shutting off the water. He spun back around to face Cas, overlooking Dean’s wide eyes at Sam’s angry expression. "It’s not that simple, Cas! We sure as hell wouldn’t be okay with losing you!”

Cas abruptly stood, lining up toe to toe with Sam. “You have Dean to take care of now, Sam, in a much different capacity than normal. There is no way that I would let you give your life before mine. Not when he needs you.”

“Castell?” Dean’s voice was small, almost unheard among the adults.

“Yeah? Well we need _you_ too, Cas!” Sam shouted.

“Sammy?” Dean tugged on Sam’s jeans. “Why you yewwing, Sammy?”

“I appreciate that Sam, but-“

“Appreciate it? You _appreciate_ it?” Sam gave a humorless laugh. “Wow. Dean’s complete lack of emotions, just do what needs to be done attitude is really rubbing off on you, isn’t Cas?”

“Sammy!”

Castiel’s voice started to rise. “I understand you are angry, Sam, but given a choice I would repeat my actions without hesitation. If it comes down to it again, I will always choose you and Dean over myself. Always.”

Sam grabbed Cas by the hips, fingers digging into the jeans Cas had worn as part of his cowboy costume. “And what am I supposed to do, Cas, if that leaves me here without you?”

Startled, Cas fell forward against Sam’s chest, his hands gripping on to Sam’s open shirt for balance. The movement tweaked his side, and Sam carefully, tenderly ran his fingertips along the fresh, white bandages.

Castiel licked his lips, now suddenly dry. “Sam, I-“

A soft, brown moose landed in between them, bouncing off Sam’s bicep and knocking against Castiel’s thigh before falling to the ground. They both turned to see Dean pouting and stomping his foot. “Stop yewwing!” he demanded, one cheek stained with a tear that was still tracking down his face.

“Dean.” Dean’s tears stopped when his angel spoke his name, so calm, so steady, so reassuring. Castiel reluctantly stepped away from Sam, and though it twinged his side, he knelt down so he was on Dean’s level. “I am sorry, Dean. We did not mean to scare you.”

“Why you and Sammy fight?” Dean whispered.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at Cas. He knelt down beside them, curling an arm around Dean’s back to bring him close. “Because we are silly, Dean, and Sammy got angry with Cas.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead, and gave Cas an apologetic look. “Even though Sammy shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, well.” Cas lifted the cowboy hat off Dean’s head and gently turned him so Sam could rid him of his jeans. “I may have been a bit out of line as well. I should not have fought with Sam.”

Dean sniffled, but seeing that his two favorite people were no longer fighting, he allowed Sam to lift him into the bathtub. “Miz KeeKee say when you fight, you haff ta say you sowwy.”

Sam smiled. “She’s right, Dean.”  He grabbed Dean’s washcloth. “I owe Cas an apology.”

Cas reached for Dean’s bottle of no-tears baby soap and squeezed some onto the cloth in Sam’s hands. “I am not without fault either.”

Sam ran the cloth along Dean’s skin, ridding him of the light smears of blood that had transferred when he’d thrown himself at Cas. “I’m sorry, Cas.” Sam turned to his angel, and his fists couldn’t help but clench a little when he saw again how long Castiel’s wound was. The three of them had been thrown against walls, knocked out God knew how many times, dislocated joints, given each other stitches, been broken and bruised a hundred times over, but somehow now, ever since Dean had been little, things were different, they were more precious, more fragile…Sam was still getting used to these new roles. Dean was different, Sam was different, yet Cas was still gloriously the same, but something about how he acted with Sam was different… “You scared me,” Sam admitted quietly. Two inches higher and that gash would have run clear through Castiel’s heart.

Cas pried the washcloth from Sam’s tight fists, and went about getting Dean clean. “I am sorry for that, Sam. And I am sorry for going against your wishes.” He turned Dean around so he could wash his back, and Sam saw him start to say something else, but Dean cut in.

“Sammy?” Dean held out his plastic bath cup, and tipped his head back. “You wash my hair?”

Sam took the cup from his brother. “Yeah, bud. I’ll wash your hair.”

 

Cas wrapped Dean in a fluffy towel while Sam dried his hair. Sam helped Dean step into his pajamas while Cas turned down his bed. Sam settled Dean in Cas’s arms, Cas already humming Dean’s favorite lullaby as Dean snuggled into Castiel’s side, leaving half the bed open for Sam. Ditching his cowboy clothes for soft pajama pants, Sam forewent a shirt and climbed into bed, curling an arm around his baby brother.

Once Dean was asleep, Cas stopped humming, though Sam knew they were both still awake. They lay on their backs, on either side of Dean, Cas so he wouldn’t lay on his cut and Sam so he wouldn’t have to look at Cas hurt.

Five minutes passed before Cas’s head turned sideways on his pillow. “I will never apologize for keeping you safe, Sam. Ever.” He avowed.

Sam sighed, taking in Dean’s small form in between them, as well as the blue of Castiel’s eyes that he could see even in darkness. “I know.” He rolled onto his side and draped an arm across Dean. "I wouldn’t either.”

Cas shifted as well, securing Dean tightly between them. As had become their habit, Cas wrapped Sam’s hand in his, their arms resting protectively over Dean. “Happy Halloween, Sam.”

Sam chuckled softly, and tightened his fingers. “Happy Halloween, Cas.”


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel snapped his fingers to halt the shrill sound of the ringing telephone the next morning, not wanting the piercing noise to wake Sam or Dean in this early hour, when the sun was still rising.

He frowned at the blinking red light that appeared on the hotel phone, summarily ignoring it.  Sam could figure it out when he woke up.

Castiel rolled onto his side, so he could face the man in question. The man whose hair was sloppily falling across his forehead in sleep, whose arm was wrapped loosely around his baby brother, whose forehead was finally, finally clear of any and all stress lines, at least while he slept.

Dean, lying in between them, looked more innocent than any fledgling Castiel had ever seen. Soft hair and plush baby cheeks, tiny little arms and legs clothed in sweet, colorful red pajamas featuring some sort of racing car. Cas had no clue who the character was but Dean seemed to like it, and Cas was more than happy to leave the shopping and clothing to Sam.

A frown settled over Castiel’s face, shrouded in the incredibly human emotion of guilt. For someone who was acting as something like Dean Winchester’s guardian angel, even before his regression, Castiel had been leaving a lot to Sam when it came to looking after Dean. Shopping, clothing choices, bathing, most of the discipline…Castiel’s lack of knowledge of human traditions and routines was slowly making itself obvious, and Sam was the one picking up the slack.

Sure, Castiel had eliminated the threat of vampires the night before; the pain still present in his side was proof of that, and wasn’t that a funny thing? He frowned again, thinking he should have been able to heal that by now.

Hundreds of thousands of voices filtered through his head via angel radio, and Castiel was stricken with a sudden thought.

Perhaps all this time away from heaven, on earth with Sam and Dean, had slowly been robbing him of his grace.

But that couldn’t happen.

Could it?

Castiel looked down at his bare chest, a quarter of which was covered in white gauze.

Raw. Bleeding. Unhealed.

He had fallen for Dean once, costing him some of his power, some of his allies.

 _It’s happening again,_ a voice flittered through his mind.

Castiel looked sideways again, taking in floppy hair, morning stubble, and soft snores.

_And this time, it isn’t just Dean._

Two hours later, Castiel felt a small stirring against his side. He had closed his eyes, still not needing sleep, but enjoying the human feeling of calm breathing and relaxation.

He looked down at the movement against his ribs.

“Hi Castell.” Dean whispered, still held to the bed by the weight of a sleeping Sam’s arm.

“Hello, little one.” Castiel murmured, gently lifting Sam’s arm up to free Dean.

Dean snuggled sleepily into Castiel’s side, and Castiel briefly thought that whatever protectiveness he had felt for Dean when he had been full grown all too weakly paled in comparison for the tightening in his chest that consumed him whenever this tiny version was in his arms. “Sammy still seepin’.” Dean informed him.

“Yes,” Castiel said softly. “And we shall let him.” Seeing Dean slowly come awake, becoming more fidgety, Castiel held him against the uninjured side of his chest and rose from the bed, Dean in his arms. “Our Sammy likes coffee, yes? You can help me make it.”

 

“Castell still hurwt.” Dean observed sadly, sitting atop the small counter, eyeing Castiel’s chest.

“Castiel is just fine, little one.” Cas reassured. He hastened to button the borrowed shirt of Sam’s that he had tossed on upon waking. The burn in his side at the movement was a grim reminder that no, he wasn’t fine.

Not by angel standards.

He scooped Dean up and retrieved the little boy’s candy pail from the height that Sam had placed it on the night before, desperately needing a distraction.

And food. They really didn’t have much food.

Settling Dean onto his lap at the little hotel table, Cas dumped out the contents of the plastic ghost. “You’ve been such a good little boy this morning, Dean.” Knowing he was breaking all kinds of rules, he gave Dean’s tummy a little tickle. “Pick something special for breakfast.”

 

As Castiel watched Dean attack his candy with fervor, he inwardly winced at the pain in his side that was only exacerbated by holding a squirming toddler on his lap. He had thought long and hard all night, and what he knew to be true was no less apparent in the grey light of this fall morning.

He couldn’t protect Dean, and Sam, if he were injured. He couldn’t watch over them if he wasn’t at full capacity, and he couldn’t keep up his grace if he continued to spend all his minutes down here on earth.

Castiel had to leave those he loved, so he could protect what he cherished.

“Castell eat wiv me?” Dean held out an orange and brown wrapped candy that smelled of peanut butter.

Dutifully opening his mouth for little fingers, Castiel smiled. “Of course, little one.”

The tightening in his gut had nothing to do with the Halloween candy.

 

Sam awoke to silence, cold hands, and an empty bed. He shot up, eyes widening in alarm, at the absence of his little brother in the space beside him.

“Secwet.”

Sam turned his head towards the sound of Dean’s voice to see his baby brother and Cas conspiring at the little table in their room’s tiny kitchenette.

The low rumble of Castiel’s chuckle wrapped around Sam like a warm blanket. “Yes, little one. Candy for breakfast will be our little secret.”

Sam smiled to himself, looking up atop the now empty dresser that had just last night held Dean’s commandeered Halloween ghost bucket. Silently climbing out of bed, he stalked behind Castiel’s chair as quietly as he could. Placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and warm lips near his ear, Sam murmured, “Secrets don’t make friends, angel.”

Dean yelped and turned rapidly in Castiel’s arms, hiding an empty candy wrapper behind his back. “Sammy awake!”

Castiel flushed, gripping Dean around the hips to lift him up to Sam. “Sam. I thought you were still sleeping.”

Sam cuddled Dean close and reveled in the enthusiastic way Dean’s arms wrapped around his neck to say good morning. “I was.”

“I know that sugar is not the best way to start the day, however-“

“Cas.” Sam interrupted, smiling. “Relax.”

“Yeah, Castell, wewax.” Dean leaned over Sam’s arms to whisper loudly at Cas. “I kept our secwet.”

“That you did, Dean.” Cas stood, and Sam held in a groan, because at no time ever had one of his shirts ever looked that good. Only two buttons were done up, and crookedly at that, strategically covering most of Cas’s wound.

Sam hitched Dean onto his hip and lifted his chin at Cas. “I should check that.”

Cas waved a hand. “No need. it is practically healed.” He stepped away from Sam, avoiding his gaze.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Right.” He walked over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of the fresh, hot brew. Inhaling deeply, he smiled at Cas over his mug. “Thanks for making coffee, angel.” Sam had been more tired than usual this morning. It was rare that Dean woke up without Sam knowing, Castiel present or not. Maybe he was getting sick, though he didn’t feel like it. Perhaps he had kicked something just in time.

He turned towards the dresser to find a shirt to throw on, and noticed the blinking red light on the cheap hotel phone. “Cas? We get a call?”

Cas busied himself at the sink. “Not sure, Sam. Must have missed it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, not really sure how that was possible. He picked up the phone and hit a few buttons to retrieve the message.

_Good morning Mister Winchester, this is Robin at the front desk. I am just giving you a courtesy call to let you know that tonight is your last paid night. If you would like to extend your stay, please don’t hesitate to set up a new reservation. Otherwise, we ask that you vacate your room by eleven am tomorrow morning. Thank you and have a great day._

“I’m hungwy, Sammy.” Dean poked Sam in his bare chest.

Sam swallowed hard, quickly masking the sick feeling rising up in his gut. How had a month gone by already? And how could he have been so distracted as to not figure out, literally, where their next meal was coming from?

Dean always handled those things.

Clearing his throat, Sam pasted on a smile. “Are you? Even after your secret candy breakfast?” Sam winked at Cas, who only looked away sadly. Sam frowned, but didn’t have the chance to ask about it before Dean was expounding on his hunger again. If Cas had missed the call and the voicemail had been new, then why did Cas look so sad?

Flipping through mostly empty cupboards, Sam sighed. Local diner it was. Thinking of his dwindling cash reserve, and down to his last credit card that could be used without raising suspicion- they so rarely stayed in one place so long- Sam knew he would have to do something about their money supply.

Frowning at the faraway look on Castiel’s face as he buckled Dean into his car seat, Sam pondered his options. On top of the cash flow problem, Sam didn’t like that sad, reserved look on Cas’s face and knew their angel was keeping something from him.

“Sammy, where we going?”

Sam started the car, and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror. “I’m taking you to breakfast, little man.” He glanced over at Cas, who only buckled himself in and sat up straight, looking out the windshield, avoiding Sam’s gaze.

Sam sighed, and remembered the voicemail on the phone. Castiel’s weird mood could wait. After breakfast, priority number one was figuring out how to get some cash. Fast.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So glad you guys are loving the Sastiel, because these two just won't stop touching each other and having feels <3

That night, Sam exited the bathroom, fresh from a shower, to see Cas seated cross-legged on the floor in front of Dean, who was playing with his toys.

His bath toys. On the carpet.

Because Sam couldn’t even freakin’ afford to buy his kid separate toys for bathtime and playtime.

His melancholy mood lifted before it could even set in, though, in watching Dean instruct Castiel on the proper way to play.

“No, Castell. Dat guy no do dat.” Dean took the action figure from Cas’s hands, and gave him a small toy dump truck instead. “I do guy. You can do twuck.” Dean grabbed his little black impala car and set the little toy man on top, zooming him around, making engine noises with his lips pursed together. “Come on, Cas, he needs the twuck!”

Sam walked into the tiny living space, one hand fisted in the towel wrapped around his waist. “Play nice, Dean.” He said breezily, walking over to his bag to grab some clothes.

“I pway nice, Sammy. I show Castell how to pway cops ‘n wobbers.”

Sam chuckled, grabbing a pair of briefs, dark jeans and a tight black tee. “Mm hmm.” He stood behind Castiel and quickly changed, then headed back to the sink to run a comb and maybe a bit of product through his hair.

“Sam?” Cas remained seated with Dean, but raised an eyebrow towards the sink where Sam stood. “It is almost ten o’clock.” Much too late for Dean to still be up, but he was bathed and in his pajamas so it didn’t really matter. “Yet you look like you are getting dressed for the day? Not for bed?”

What Sam wanted to say was, hey, you’ve been taking care of Dean all day while I’ve been distracted, and damn you look good doing it, so thanks for that.

What came out was, “We’re low on cash and I need to go get some.” Sam mentally smacked himself after blurting that out, but even under Castiel’s sharp sapphire gaze, he somehow held steady.

“How do you plan to make cash at ten pm?” Cas inquired.

“Sammy! You come to bed wiv me?” Dean asked, toy car still in hand.

Sam pasted on a fake smile, ignoring Cas to address Dean. “Cas is gonna put you to bed tonight, okay baby?” Sam reached down to pick Dean up and give him a hug. “Sammy’s gotta run an errand. But I’ll be back before you wake up.”

“Pwomise?” Dean looked between Sam and Cas, clearly confused.

“Promise.” Sam kissed the top of his head, then placed him in Castiel’s arms. Dean’s eyes had started to droop, his body growing lax. Cas took him effortlessly, but still frowned at Sam over Dean’s head.

“I’ll be back soon, Cas.” Sam assured.

“Sam-“

Sam grabbed his wallet and his keys, quickly shutting the door behind him before whatever Cas was about to say next could change his mind.

 

“He fight all of dem?” Dean asked Cas twenty minutes later, wide-eyed underneath the covers.

Castiel tucked the sheets even more snugly around Dean. “All of them,” he echoed, in a wondrous voice. “Super Hunter took down every, single, demon. All by himself!” Cas regaled Dean with a fascinating bedtime story, keeping the little boy entranced with every word.

Of course, had Dean known he himself was the hero of this particular tale, well. Adult Dean would break out in one of those dazzling, boyish smiles, thinking himself the king of the world.

This child version of Dean, however, not knowing any better…“No way,” Dean whispered, completely in awe. “Super Hunter must be stwong! Stwong wike…wike Sammy! Stwong wike Castell!”

Cas smiled, and a strange warmth flowed through his vessel. He nodded assuredly at Dean, and continued his story. “He is. In fact, Super Hunter may even be stronger.”

Dean shook his head vehemently. “No way. No one stwonger den my Sammy.”

Cas relaxed further into the sheets with Dean, pulling the little boy close. “Your Sammy is quite strong.” He turned his head towards Dean. “And he loves you, very much. Never forget that, okay Dean?”

Dean nodded solemnly. “Okay.” He burrowed into Castiel, burying his face in his angel’s chest. “Castell wuv Dean too?”

Castiel swallowed hard around a strange thickness in his throat. “Yes, Dean. Castiel loves you too. Very much.” He tucked his chin against Dean’s hair.

He felt tiny fingers curl around his thumb, and when he looked down in awe at how small Dean’s hand was now compared to his own, he heard the soft snores of a child who had fallen asleep knowing he was safe, secure, and loved.

Cas held Dean a little tighter, and watched the clock, waiting for his other Winchester brother to return home.

 

Sam ducked his head into the collar of his coat, hiding his face from the biting wind as well as any wandering eyes that might have caught on to his hustling and pickpocketing, as he made his way across the dark parking lot.

Once he was safely inside the impala, his pockets and conscience heavier but his stomach lighter, Sam let out a tense breath, revved the engine, and floored the gas, eager to get away from the bar and back home to his family.

 

“You have spent the night in sin.” Castiel’s voice was quiet, almost understanding, when Sam entered their room.

But still softly condemning.

Sam halted the slow movement of removing his jacket, trying to remain as quiet as possible so as not to wake Dean. “I did what I had to do.” Sam would apologize to no one, not even an angel of the Lord, for providing for his family, by any means necessary. He hadn’t hurt anyone; the guy he had hustled out of four hundred dollars at the bar had spent the entire evening harassing one of the waitresses, and the man he pickpocketed wouldn’t even notice the hefty hotel bill Sam was about to charge to his card. At least not judging by the three thousand dollar watch he had worn on his wrist, he wouldn’t. Sam didn’t bother questioning what the hell a high roller like that had been doing in a dive bar, but while the guy’s slicked back hair had been buried in the chest of a woman twenty years his junior, lifting a couple of his credit cards had been no problem for someone like Sam.

“You were successful then, I assume?”

Sam had removed his shoes and tee, thinking longingly of a hot shower to wash the night off his skin and his conscience. A tired smile crossed his face as he took in the sight of Dean lying in the middle of their big bed, cradled in one of Castiel’s arms. Still, a touch of bitterness crept into his voice. “Don’t you judge me, Cas.”

“I am merely making an observation, Sam. I was raised in heaven. Judge not, lest ye-“

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam shucked off his jeans, and headed towards the bathroom. “Save it. I just can’t tonight, Cas.” Sam shut the door on his brother and his angel, thanking Cas for Dean’s safety, but needing some distance.

 

As he stepped under the hot spray and leaned his forearm against the tile wall, head resting atop the draped limb, Sam let out a low noise of frustration.

In here, he could be honest, at least with himself. Distance was the last thing he wanted from Cas right now. The way Cas held Dean, kept him close, warm, safe…

Sam cursed himself for desperately wanting that same comfort.

His head lifted when he heard the slick metallic noise of the shower curtain hangers whizzing across their rail.

“You did what you had to do,” Castiel echoed, murmuring to Sam as he stepped into the shower. Warm hands landed tenderly on Sam’s back, his hips.

“Dean…?”

“Is sound asleep, with the salt lines unbroken and fresh warding beneath the bed.” Castiel reached around Sam, turning the water even hotter.

Sam dared to turn his head around, just slightly. “Dean always…he was the one…I’ve never had to-“

“I know.” Warm lips pressed against Sam’s spine, and Sam shivered with the sensation. Those hands held his hips tighter, more sure, and slowly turned him around. Ocean blue eyes gazed deep into his soul, and forgave him his every transgression. “You’re doing a good job, Sam.”

And he broke then, folding into his angel’s arms, letting out a harsh sob, body heated and soaked by the shower. “How did he do it, Cas? He was just a kid. He was just a kid, and he took care of me. I’m twenty-fucking-six years old, and I can’t even-“

“You can, Sam.” Cas professed into Sam’s skin. “You can, and you are.” Strong hands wove shampoo suds through Sam’s damp hair, cleansing, massaging. “Dean is safe and sleeping, because his older brother is watching out for him with every fiber of his being.”

Sam shook his head. “Because of you.” His hands came up to grasp onto slick skin, finding purchase by digging into Castiel’s shoulder blades. “I couldn’t do this without you, Cas.”

Sam felt himself being turned around again, and he groaned at the feel of strong, sure hands massaging soap onto his neck, his back, his shoulders, his hips. Cleaning, absolving, forgiving him. “You can, Sam. You can do so much more than you think.” Sam must have imagined the slight hitch in Castiel’s voice, because his angel’s hands were so firm, solid, steady.

Sam turned and shook his head, droplets of water from Sam’s bangs raining down on Castiel’s dark hair.

Castiel held Sam’s face between his hands. Sam’s hands came up to grasp Castiel’s wrists, their foreheads pressing together under the pulsing spray of the shower. Soft lips pressed against his own, and Sam didn’t have even one full second to process that before Castiel was murmuring to him again. “You can do so much more than you think,” he repeated softly.

Sam’s head jerked up. “Cas.” He could see it now, why Cas had looked so sad earlier. He could hear it in his voice. “You’re leaving.” Sam accused, suddenly feeling cold even underneath the fiery heat of the water surrounding them.

Cas backed away, just an inch, but it was enough. The bandage holding his most recent wound together was slowly peeling off, caving into the soaking wet heat of the shower. “Only for a little while.”

Sam slammed his hand down on the faucet, shutting off the water.  “Now it’s my turn not to judge, then.”

“Sam,” Cas pleaded softly. He wrapped a towel around his waist, mirroring Sam’s movements, then dropped his now soaked bandage in the wastebasket, revealing only a slightly less raw wound than yesterday. “I cannot help you while I am weakened like this. I cannot protect Dean if I am without my grace.” Castiel followed Sam out into the bedroom, where they traded damp towels for warm flannel pj pants. “I benefit you because I am an angel, not just…”

Sam bobbed his head in mocking agreement, and finished Castiel’s sentence. “Not just a man. You know, like me.” He said sardonically.

Castiel grabbed Sam’s wrist to halt him before Sam could slide into bed with his back to Cas. “That is what you are, what you have always been. You don’t know any different. I do.”

It was said so plainly, so factually, so like Cas that Sam softened. He understood where Cas was coming from, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it. But Sam could fault him for nothing, not when Cas’s reasons for leaving were solely to heal up and get back to full power so he could better watch out for him and Dean. It would take someone pretty selfish not to appreciate that. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Castiel questioned, searching Sam’s face with blue eyes so deep Sam thought he could swim in them.

Sam gave him a soft smile, and nodded. “Okay.”

When Cas lay down next to Dean, he cuddled the little boy even closer than usual, knowing it would have to tide him over for a while. Sam let him have this, and instead of climbing in on Dean’s other side, he scooted into bed behind Castiel.

Wrapping his arms around their angel, and brushing a soft hand over Dean’s hair, Sam tucked his chin into Castiel’s shoulder and whispered, “You’re not just of benefit to us because you’re an angel, Cas. You’re our strength because you’re always on our side. You protect us before yourself, hell in that area you’re just as stubborn as Dean.” Sam warmed at Castiel’s chuckle, and he smiled against his skin. “You’re practically a Winchester, Cas. And we’re so damn lucky you chose us.”

Castiel relaxed further in the circle of Sam’s arms, holding Dean securely against his chest. He shook his head, his dark hair brushing Sam’s chin. “No, Sam. It is I who is lucky that you chose me.” And even though Cas had no need for sleep, he closed his eyes anyway, enjoying the soft, comforting hum that came from syncing his vessel’s heartbeat with those of the two brothers that surrounded him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper Sam and Dean quality fluff time to follow! And don't worry, Cas isn't gone long. I just had to get him out, otherwise we don't get fluffy brothers!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, lovelies. There's been a lot going on. Rest assured there is much Christmas fluff to come!

Sam woke up the next morning with his arms wrapped around a body much smaller than the one they had been holding the night before.

“Sammy.”

Sam nuzzled his nose into Dean’s soft, innocent, baby skin. “Good morning, Dean.” He blew a raspberry onto Dean’s neck, just so he could hear his baby brother giggle.

“Tickles, Sammy!” Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Where’s Castell?”

Sam swallowed hard, and propped himself onto one elbow. Not the conversation he wanted to dive into first thing in the morning, but he wouldn’t lie to Dean. “Cas had to go away for a bit, baby.”

Dean’s big green eyes looked up at Sam. “Why come?”

Sam gathered him close. “He had some super important angel business to check on. But he said he would come back to us real soon.”

“Oh.” Dean lay his head on Sam’s shoulder. “Okay.” Sam held him there a moment, but didn’t want their day to start off on such a melancholy note. He set Dean away from him, but before he could suggest something fun for breakfast, Dean pointed to a piece of paper on the nightstand that said ‘SAM’ in giant letters. “Wook, Sammy!”

Sam turned, and reached for the note. Wait, could Dean read?

Sam shoved the thought aside for later, and flipped open the paper, carefully folded in half. It was weighted down by two keys, taped to the very bottom of the page.

_Sam,_

_My apologies for leaving so swiftly. I assure you, it is for the best. I will return. This is not forever._

_Unless you would like it to be._

Sam’s heart pounded. Surely Cas couldn’t think…

Below that was an address, one that Sam was not at all familiar with.

_Do not spend any more of your money on this hotel. At this address you will find a place suitable for you and Dean for the time being. It comes fully furnished, with all utilities paid. Keep our baby boy warm._

_I meant what I said last night. You are doing a good job._

_Talk soon_

_Castiel_

“What it say, Sammy?” Okay so maybe Dean couldn’t read.

“It uh.” Sam was still reeling from Cas’s words. “It says Cas misses us, and he will see us soon.” Dean had his head propped on Sam’s shoulder from behind, as if to read the note for himself.

Sam turned and scooped Dean up into his arms, smiling for the first time in a while. “Come on, baby boy. We are hittin’ the road.”

And on the way to Kansas, Sam even put on one of the old rock tapes that Dean loved so much.

 

The address that Cas had written down led Sam and Dean to a cute little two story bungalow, with a stone porch and an old fashioned chimney. Sam unlocked the front door and walked into a cozy living room; not large, but with a comfy looking chocolate brown sofa with fuzzy throws and pillows, a fireplace, and even a flat screen TV mounted to the wall.

The kitchen was a tiled square, fashioned with new appliances and a small island. Dean held tight to Sam’s hand, a little nervous at first until Sam said, “This is our new home, Dean.”

Dean searched Sam’s face, and Sam must have sounded as sure as he felt because Dean broke into a wide smile and ran up the carpeted stairs, Moose in hand, to explore the bedrooms.

“Sammy! Wookit da bed! It’s big!”

Sam blinked away the wetness in his eyes and ran a large hand along the wooden railing that led to the two-bedroom upstairs. Dean was right; the bed in the master bedroom was a king, covered in clean sheets and a huge, fluffy comforter in Sam’s favorite shade of dark blue.

How the hell had Cas…

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice echoed from the master bath. Sam followed his baby brother’s voice, and leaned against the doorframe.

Dean was standing in front of an enormous Jacuzzi tub, even larger than the one in their hotel. There was another note with Sam’s name propped up on the sink.

_Sam,_

_I hope this house is to your satisfaction. The foundation as well as the walls are warded, the walls covered in paint to mask them to any outsiders._

_I will be in touch soon. Please take care._

_I have plans for this tub._

_You’re doing a good job._

_Castiel_

Dean flew back downstairs to jump on the couch, and Sam took a moment to compose himself. Only Cas would reference getting naked together in a bathtub in the same breath as instructions to take care of himself and Dean.

Taking a deep breath, letting a wide smile spread across his face, Sam went downstairs to join Dean.

 

Thanksgiving came and went with only one or two messages from Castiel, checking in with Sam to let him know that he was okay, and to inquire after Sam and Dean.

On one such conversation, only one of three since Cas had left, Sam watched Dean play with his bath toys amidst a tub full of bubbles. “He’s fine, Cas.” Sam said shortly. Okay, yeah, maybe he was a little bit bitter that Cas had missed Thanksgiving with them. The house was amazing, but dammit Sam wished Cas was here to live in it with them.

“Sam.”

Sam blew out a breath. “He’s fine. And so am I.” Going out on a limb, he finished, “we just…kinda got used to you being with us.”

“I miss you too, Sam.”

Sam flushed, and not just from the heat of Dean’s bath water. Dean pursed his lips and blew spit bubbles, roaring a speedboat around the rim of the tub. “Sammy! Tell Cas we need to get cwismas twee!”

Sam softened, and his heart pinched. “Call me when you can, Cas. I gotta go.”

“Sammy! Tell him! I tell him!”

“What is it Dean wishes to tell me, Sam?”

Sam sighed. He had kept Dean out of their conversations, mostly out of fear that his baby brother would notice Castiel’s absence that much more upon hearing his voice. A bit resigned, knowing it wasn’t fair to Dean, Sam put his phone on speaker and placed it on a dry towel on the rim of the tub. “Dean wants to tell you we are going to get a Christmas tree tomorrow.”

“We getting a cwismas twee Castell! You come wiv us?” Dean shouted into the phone, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Oh, little one.” Sam could hear the effort Cas kept into keeping his voice steady. “I cannot. I am so sorry that I cannot be with you as soon as tomorrow.”

Sam bit his lip, angry all over again at Cas for leaving, at himself for letting him talk to Dean.

“Okay.” Dean looked down into his bubbles, maneuvering his speedboat through the bathwater with much less enthusiasm than before. “I still get you cwismas pwesent.” He assured Cas.

“That is very generous of you, Dean.” Castiel cleared his throat. “I will have something for you as well.”

“You gonna see me on cwismas?” Dean asked, lighting up again. Sam didn’t point out that Christmas was still a good three weeks away.

A lot could happen between now and then.

“Yes,” Castiel assured. “I will see you for Christmas.”

“Pwomise?”

“I promise. I need to talk to Sam now, okay? You be a good boy.”

“Okay, Castell. Wuv you.”

There was a pause, and Sam came this close to grabbing the phone and cursing Cas out when the angel’s gravelly voice came over the speaker. “I love you too, Dean.”

Dean went back to his toys, playing around in his bubble bath. Sam grabbed the phone and left the bathroom, leaving the door cracked so he could keep an eye on Dean. Taking it off speaker phone, he pressed his mouth to the microphone. “Cas, I swear to God, if you just told him that and you aren’t here-“

“I will be, Sam. I hope to come hom- to come back soon.”

Sam clutched the phone in a death grip, holding on tight to his only connection to Cas. “It’s been a month.” He cringed at the lame jilted lover tone that threaded his voice.

“I will not be gone much longer. My grace is almost fully restored. There are just some things up here in heaven that, well. You know how family is.”

Sam relaxed a bit. “Yeah. I get it.” Cas was an angel of the Lord, for God’s sake. Sam and Dean Winchester weren’t the only beings needing his attention, and it was selfish of Sam to think that way. He mentally scolded himself, and said the same thing he had said during the last two conversations. “Cas, this house-“

“Are you taking care of yourself, Sam?” Cas interrupted, as per usual.

Sam smiled softly. “Yes, angel. Are you?”

“I will be fully restored soon.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He would take Cas fully broken. “Did you really get Dean a present?”

Castiel’s chuckle shot straight through Sam’s blood, warming him up and wrapping around him as surely as angel wings. “Of course I did, Sam. It’s Christmas.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah. Dean’s pretty excited to get a real tree. We are gonna go all out this year, with decorating, cooking, making cookies. It’s going to be ridiculous.”

“It will be wonderful. You are giving Dean such excellent memories, Sam.”

Sam was grateful that Cas couldn’t see him blush. “Yeah, well.” He peeked in on Dean, watching his little brother give himself a bubble bath mohawk. “I gotta go, Cas.”

“Alright. Oh and Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I got you something too.”

Cas clicked off before Sam had the presence of mind to ask what.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean hunt for a Christmas tree, and then Dean takes off on a little escapade at the mall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. Get ready for a toothache

 “Let’s get dis one!” Dean exclaimed, standing next to a little pine tree no bigger than himself.

Sam held in a laugh. “That one is cute, De, but don’t you want a bigger one?”

Dean considered this, then nodded. “I can’t see anyfing, Sammy.” He pouted. Sam squatted down, and yeah, from Dean’s short vantage point, this huge Christmas tree farm just looked like a mess of brown trunks and low green boughs. No wonder he picked the tree he could see in its entirety.

“Okay, De.” Sam scooped his brother into his arms, settling Dean onto his hip. Adjusting Dean’s mittens and resettling his hat, Sam fixed him with a mock serious glare. “Keep an eye out for the biggest, coolest Christmas tree ever.”

“Ever!” Dean echoed. “Wike one Super Hunter would pick.” Not a day went by that Dean didn’t reference the character from Cas’s bedtime stories. Sam had given up trying to replicate them three nights into Cas’s absence. “You no do his voice wight, Sammy.” Dean had scolded.

Sam plodded his way through straw and dead grass, boots crunching the frozen ground as he wound his way through the lines of firs and pines, an old farm saw tucked under one arm, and Dean in the other.

Sam didn’t have any experience in cutting one’s own Christmas tree, but he had certainly seen them, and he had used a saw before, so he figured he could manage. Besides, he wanted to give Dean the memory of decorating their very own, very real, Christmas tree.

Not that three year olds really had good memories. How much of this childhood that Sam and Cas were trying so hard to give Dean would his brother really remember, anyway? Sam sighed.

”What’s wong, Sammy?”

Sam blinked, looking down into Dean’s adorably concerned face. “Nothing, De. Look!” Sam pointed to a tall, beautifully verdant looking Douglas Fir. “There’s our tree.”

Dean turned his head, eyes lighting up his entire face as he took in the perfectly symmetrical tree. “It’s big! How we cawwy it home?”

“Psh.” Sam put his face close to Dean’s. “You think your Sammy can’t haul that little tree home?” Little, eight feet tall, same difference, Sam figured.

Dean clapped his mittened hands onto Sam’s cheeks. “My Sammy can do anyfing.”

“Damn right.” Sam kissed Dean on the nose, and set him down. “Stay out of the way, okay? I need to cut it down and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay Sammy.” Sam waited until Dean had backed a safe distance away, then started cutting. When he had sawed a little more than halfway through the trunk, he braced the fir with his shoulder. “Dean!” he called, eyes searching for Dean’s legs amidst the boughs. “Step around to the other side, baby.” Watching his little brother get crushed by a tree really wasn’t on Sam’s agenda today. Sam kept cutting his way through the trunk until there were mere fibers holding up their tree. Bracing his body around the leaning tree, he gave one good, strong pull, and stepped to the side to watch their Christmas tree fall.

“Yay Sammy!” Dean cheered. “We take it home now?”

Sam wasn’t sure how adult Dean would feel about strapping an eight foot long tree to the roof of the impala.

He grinned. “Yeah, De.” Wrapping his hands around the base of the trunk, he guided Dean to walk in front of him as they made their way to the front of the farm to have it tied up. “We take it home now.”

 

_Two days later_

Okay. He had faced down demons. Vampires. Werewolves. The apocalypse. Angels and monsters alike.

There was no way that a commercial mall at Christmas time was going to take down Sam Winchester.

Squaring his shoulders, Sam gave Dean’s hand a squeeze. “Ready to go shopping, De?”

“Weady, Sammy!” Dean had no idea what they were shopping for, but he was out and about with Sam, and to him, that’s all that mattered. “Cas come too?”

Well. Almost all that mattered. “Not yet, baby.” But the angel was why they were here.

Sam would feel like a total jerk if he didn’t get Cas something for Christmas, knowing their angel had already gotten something for him. He didn’t know angels exchanged gifts!

 _They don’t,_ a voice in his head whispered. _Just yours._

“You gonna help me pick out something nice for Cas?”

“Yeah, Sammy!”

And with that, the Winchester brothers, hand in hand, entered the mall.

 

Christmas carols blared from the mall speakers, shoppers of all ages rushing around them. Red, green, and silver decorations ambushed them at every turn.

“I’m hungwy, Sammy.”

“I know, baby.” Two hours, and still Sam had found nothing that he deemed suitable to gift to an Angel of the Lord. “Just a few more minutes, okay?”

Dean nodded, but walked sullenly and sluggishly at Sam’s side as they wandered the mall. Sam caught a glimpse of a colorful array of ties, wondering if that’s what he should get Cas. Jimmy’s old blue one had to be wearing out, right?

_A tie?? What is this, a crappy Father’s day gift?_

Sam sighed, and vowed to keep looking. Reaching down for Dean’s hand, he said defeatedly, “Come on, Dean.”

But there was no little hand to take. “Dean?” Sam looked around.

No Dean.

“DEAN!”

 

“Oooo.” Dean peered through the white wooden railing, taking in the glorious Winter Wonderland display in front of him. There were lots of little kids just like him, all lined up, holding their Sammy’s hands, waiting, waiting…for what? Dean’s eyes followed the line.

“Santa.” He whispered in awe. 

Dean took off, heading straight for the front of the line.

 

“Dean!” Sam whirled around, frantically calling his little brother’s name. “Dean!” He grabbed a passing woman by the shoulders. “Have you seen this kid?” He flashed her one of his latest photogenic moments on his cell phone of his baby Dean. “Please! Have you seen him?”

“N-no!” she said, shaken. He released her with a noise of frustration. “Dean!” Sam ran a hand desperately though his hair, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. Shoppers rushed by, oblivious to his panic. Sam stopped anyone he could grab. “Have you seen my…”

“Oh, dear.” A stylish, older woman studied the phone in sympathy. “You’ve lost your son, then?”

“I…he…yes.” Sam didn’t have time for elaborate explanations. “Please. He’s only three. I need to find him.”

She studied his picture for one more moment, then looked at Sam. “Did you guys come to visit Santa?”

“What?” Sam’s mind was running a mile a minute. “No. We came to shop. I just-“

“Honey.” She laid a hand on his arm. “If your little boy is anything like my grandson, he would be making a beeline for the North Pole.”

“North Pole.” Sam rushed to the railing, looking down onto the first floor of the mall. Taking in the holiday display before him, Sam tightened his fingers. “Santa.” He turned to the woman. “Thank you. Thank you.” Sam jumped the stairway railing, landing four steps down and racing down the rest. “Dean!”

 

“Santa,” Dean whispered. He ran gentle fingers along a pile of fake, fluffy snow, eyes alight in wonder at all the Christmas cheer surrounding him. Elves, candy canes, presents…he was at the North Pole!

“Well hello there!”

Dean looked around, startled and confused. His eyes widened. One of Santa’s elves was talking to him!

“HI!” Dean said excitedly. “You work wiv Santa?”

“I sure do. Where is your mommy, little guy?”

Dean shook his head. “I no have a mommy.”

“Oh.” The elf looked around. “Are you here with your Daddy, then?”

“Um. I’m here wiv Sammy.” Dean bit his lip, finally realizing that his Sammy was no longer next to him. His eyes filled, and his lip quivered. “But I wost him.”

“Oh, here, it’s okay, sweetie.” The elf reached out her hand. “Let’s find your Sammy, hmm?”

Dean shook his head and backed up. “Cas and Sammy say no talk wiv stwangers.”

“Well they sound very smart. But I am one of Santa’s elves! It’s my job to help little kids, not hurt them.” She knelt down and gently took Dean’s hand. “I bet your Sammy would really like to find you.”

Dean took her hand, though he was clearly torn. He looked at the big, golden chair, and the big round man with the fluffy beard. “But I wanna see Santa.”

“Let’s find your Sammy, hmm? I bet he will be so happy to see you that he takes you to see Santa himself.”

“Okay.” Dean whispered, his eyes still glued to the lucky little girl who got to sit on Santa’s lap.

 

“Dean?” Sam vaulted over the cheap candy cane railing that delineated the waiting area for Santa, nearly knocking over two families. “Sorry,” he muttered half-heartedly. Using his height to his advantage, he stood in the middle of the gaudy decorations, scanning the area for his baby brother.

Spotting an elf talking to a security guard, one little boy standing absently next to her with his green eyes glued on Santa, Sam’s heart first calmed, then resumed its frantic pounding. “Dean!” Sam raced through the trickling line, sliding into a kneel in front of Dean.

“Sammy! Wook, Sammy, Santa!”

Completely engulfing his baby in his arms, Sam tucked his face into Dean’s neck. “I see. I see him, baby. Oh, my God, Dean.” Sam pulled away, and gripped Dean’s chin tightly in his hand. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ run away from me again, do you hear me?” Sam crushed Dean to him again. “Ever!”

He could feel Dean’s little body start to shake, and Sam inwardly cursed at himself for scaring Dean instead of comforting him. “I’m sowwy, Sammy. I wanted to see Santa. I wanna ask fo’ a cwismas pwesent and Santa gives out pwesents and-“

“Oh, baby.” Sam wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and a hand around the back of Dean’s head, lifting him into his arms as he stood. “We can see Santa. You just…you just scared Sammy so much, when you ran off. It’s okay.” It was only then that Sam acknowledged the girl dressed as an elf standing next to them. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Hey, not a problem to hang with this little cutie.” She patted Dean’s back. “He’s okay. He was just over excited, I think.”

Sam’s eyes were closed, his cheek pressed against Dean’s hair. “Yeah. Yeah he’s…it’s his first time.” He looked over at Santa’s chair, his chest tightening when he saw the two elves surrounding Santa flip around a _North Pole closed for Lunch!_ sign.

Shit. How could he have come to the mall and not thought of taking Dean to see Santa? Just one more way Sam was totally failing at this big brother thing.

“Hey.” The elf patted Sam’s arm sympathetically, her eyes darting around. “Look, he usually breaks for an hour, but I think your son has had a hard enough day. Maybe I can help you out?” She took off, and Sam watched her whisper something into Santa’s ear.

The old man gestured them over. Through watery eyes, Sam apologized. “I’m sorry, I know you are taking a break-“

‘Santa’ gave Sam a wink, then addressed Dean. “Ho, ho, ho! Hello there!”

Dean buried his face into Sam’s shoulder, still scared after the realization of being without Sam had sunken in, and trying not to cry after Sam had yelled at him.

“Dean.” Sam gently shook him. “I think Santa wants to talk to you.”

Dean blearily turned his head. “Santa?”

“Hello little boy!” Santa said jovially. “My little elf tells me you want something special for Christmas!”

Sam smiled at Dean. “Go on, baby.” He set Dean down, and sent up a thanks for the immediate ease that this old man put Dean in. Santa reached out his arms, and Dean hurriedly scrambled into them.

“Santa!” Dean exclaimed. “Mewwy Cwismas, Santa!”

“Well, Merry Christmas to you, boy! What’s your name?” Santa settled Dean onto his lap, and subtly arranged him to face Sam so that Sam could snap some photos.

“Dean! And dat’s Sammy,” Dean informed him, pointing at Sam.

“Dean! That’s a good, strong name. Tell me, Dean, what do you want for Christmas?”

“I never talked to Santa befo’.” Dean said, suddenly nervous.

“Hey.” Santa gave him a squeeze. “You just take your time.”

Dean glanced nervously at Sam. “It’s okay, baby.” Sam encouraged. “Go on.”

Dean placed his hands on Santa’s shoulders, bracing himself so he could get onto his knees and put his lips to Santa’s ear.  Sam saw the old man nod, listening intently to what Dean was telling him.

“I see. You are a very sweet boy, Dean.” Santa eyed Sam, then settled Dean back down onto his knee. “Anything else?”

“Um. A fire twuck!”

“Ho, ho, hokay! Those are very good presents to ask for, Dean.” Santa looked up at Sam. “This is a very special boy you have here, young man.”

Sam nodded, a bit entranced with Santa himself. “Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

“Tank you, Santa.” Dean wrapped his arms around the bearded man’s neck, then ran back over to Sam. Giving Santa a wave, Dean told Sam, “I say goodbye to the elf, too!”

“Okay, Dean. Don’t go far.”

“And what is it you would like, young man?” Santa asked Sam, and Sam would swear his eyes twinkled.

Sam shook his head. “I’m a little old for this, aren’t I?”

Santa shook with mirth, and said sagely, “You’re never too old for Santa, boy.”

Sam felt himself wanting to ask Santa for a present despite himself. He said, honestly, “I just want Dean to be safe and happy.” Santa nodded approvingly, and rose from his chair.

Seeing Dean get a peck on the cheek from the cheery elf that had found him, Sam couldn’t help himself. He placed a hand on Santa’s arm. “Sir- er, Santa? What did Dean ask for? Before the fire truck.”

Santa smiled down at him, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks. “He said, ‘I want my Cas, and my Sammy, so we can be a family’.” Santa’s mouth turned up. “Well, it sounded more like ‘fam-wee’, but I assume that’s what he meant.”

Sam swallowed, and couldn’t stop the tears that filled his eyes. He looked at over his brother who was playing with the jingle bells on the elf’s shoes. “Dean,” he whispered.

Santa patted him on the arm. “Like I said, you and this Cas fellow have a very special boy.”

“Yeah.” Sam swallowed, and manfully wiped a tear from his cheek as he cleared his throat to recompose himself. “Yeah, we do.”

Santa winked at him. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”

Dean finished talking with the elf, and Sam instinctively reached his arms down for Dean to step into. Sweeping him up, and reveling in the way Dean perched so comfortably in his arms, just where he belonged, Sam smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Santa.”

_You and this Cas fellow have a very special boy._

It was only on the way home that Sam realized neither he nor Dean had mentioned to Santa that Cas was another adult, or that he was male.

“We met Santa, Sammy!” Dean shouted as they left the mall.

Buckling his baby into his car seat, Sam grinned down at him and kissed his forehead. “Yeah, De.” Sam said in wonder. “I think we did.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad everyone is enjoying the Christmas fluff. I apologize if this chapter seems angsty, but for Sam and I, it is quite reassuring. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments. I truly have no words, and am touched that so many are enjoying Little Dean and his daddies as much as I am
> 
> And yes, in my head, that was the real Santa that graced the Winchesters. But, in the true meaning of what Santa means and embodies, take from it what you will. Santa is whomever we wish him to be. But the boys are due a little magic in their lives, and so they demanded I write accordingly.
> 
> Enjoy the Winchester Christmas build up, my lovelies. One more Christmas fluff ch to come.  
> Ps...I would apologize for the romance, but *shrug* the Sastiel just won't take a holiday

“Santa coming tonight, Sammy?” Dean asked loudly, so Sam would hear him over the noise of the shower. They had spent all day making cookies and playing in the snow that had fallen the night before, and Sam had tickets for them to see the Christmas light display in town tonight. Dean was supposed to be getting himself dressed while Sam showered, but instead of rustling clothes, Sam heard the noise of toy car wheels zooming across the tiled bathroom floor.

“Not tonight, De. Tomorrow night.” Sam ducked his head under the spray, rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. He peeked around the shower curtain at Dean. “Quit playing, and put your clothes on.” Dean was still as naked as he’d been when Sam had lifted him out of the shower. “You’re gonna freeze.”

“No I’m not.” Dean banged his cars together, sounds of fake car crashes coming from his mouth. “We see Cas tonight, Sammy.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but still Sam didn’t have an answer. It was only two days until Christmas, and he didn’t want to give Dean any false hope. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know.” He figured he would have known when Cas was going to return by now, and the worry that Cas was going to miss their first Christmas with Dean was putting Sam in a crappy mood.

“But _I_ know, Sammy. When I fell asweep wast night Castell said he see me tomorwow.”

Sam doubted that, since Cas hadn’t called them since last week. He shut the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist before pulling back the curtain and stepping out of the shower. Dean had pulled his jeans on but left them undone, and still had no shirt on. “Dean, get dressed. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Dean looked up at Sam, holding a little toy car in each hand. “I can’t do my shirwt, Sammy. I need hewp.”  

“You could if you put down your toys.” Sam held out Dean’s shirt, a soft long sleeved one with a reindeer on the front. “Let’s go. Come on.”

Dean dropped the cars, and dejectedly took the shirt from Sam’s hand. Sam got himself dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, finger-combing out the tangles. He turned and saw Dean struggling to get his arm through the second sleeve of his shirt, his head stuck just underneath the neck. Sam softened, and immediately felt like a jerk. 

What kind of brother was he to get this frustrated over a little kid needing help getting dressed? _Now Dean must learn what it is to be unable to complete even the smallest task without help._ The witch’s words slammed into Sam’s brain, and he gently caught Dean before he tripped over the legs of his unfastened jeans. _Dean has spent his entire life cleaning up your messes, no? Perhaps if you can manage to do the same for him, his life as he knew it can be restored._

Sam guided Dean’s arm through the sleeve and tugged the hem of the shirt down so Dean’s head could pop through. Pulling Dean to stand in between his legs, Sam reached around to zip up and button his baby brother’s jeans. “There you go, De. Good job.”

“Tank you, Sammy.” Dean whispered, unsure if he was in trouble or not.

“Hey.” Sam picked him up, nosing Dean’s belly button until he heard a giggle. “I’m sorry, baby. Sammy’s just tired.”

“It’s ‘kay, Sammy. Castell come tonight, and den you sweep.”

Sam headed downstairs so he could get them some dinner. “Dean, I’m really not sure if-“

“But he _is,”_ Dean insisted. “Wast night he told me so.” He shook his head and clung to Sam’s shirt when Sam started to put him down, so Sam sat Dean on the counter. Sam put water on the stove to boil, then bracketed his arms on either side of Dean. “And when did you talk to him?”

Dean played with Sam’s bangs. “I don’t talk, Sammy. Castell does. Even when he’s not here he sings me to sweep. Den wast night he said dat he see me tomorwow.” Dean lifted Sam’s hair up high, then dropped it to watch it fall against Sam’s face. “Dat means today, wight Sammy?”

Sam frowned. “Well, yeah, it does, but…” Sam trailed off, still confused. But he let Dean play with his hair until their pasta was ready, and mentally shrugged. Dean seemed happy, and even though Sam didn’t want him to end up disappointed if Cas didn’t make it home for Christmas, at least his baby brother was in a good mood tonight to go see the Christmas lights.

 

“Oooo,” Dean whispered, in awe of all the Christmas lights, shining bright against the dark country sky. The entry to the park was decorated in swaths of red, green, blue, and silver lights, decorating all the shrubs, trees, and lampposts on the way in.

Unbuckling Dean from his car seat, Sam had to admit the lights were pretty impressive. The ‘North Pole At Night’ themed show boasted a half-mile long walking path that wove its way through several lighted holiday displays.

Sam thought Dean would enjoy seeing all the lights, made all the prettier with the few inches of snow on the ground. And he knew they would both like the huge bonfire at the end of the walk, complete with marshmallows to roast.

“Hold tight, Dean.” Sam put Dean down so he could get their tickets. Grasping Dean’s hand firmly in his own, Sam led them through the crowd of people waiting in line. Dean’s head turned left and right, taking in all the lighted figures he could see waiting for them up ahead.

“Sammy, wook! Dere’s weindeer, and snow fwakes, and a swed!”

Sam handed his tickets to the gentleman behind the counter, eager to get to where the crowd opened up as people meandered along the lighted path. “Yeah, De. Look!” Sam pointed to an enormous sleigh, blinking with red and gold lights. “Who do you think sits in that?”

“Santa!” Dean exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Only Sam’s tight grip on his hand kept Dean from running down the path to see more lights. “And dere’s a bear, an’ elves, an’ angels…”

Sam soaked up all of Dean’s excitement as he looked at the display of two kneeling angels, gleaming bright white with golden halos, with several different colored angels behind them. He scolded himself again for being so short tempered with Dean earlier, and sent up a quick prayer of thanks that his baby brother was so easily forgiving.

“…and Castell! SAMMY!” Dean pointed towards the field of angels.

“Aw, yeah, there are angels, Dean. Like Cas.” Sam didn’t bother worrying if anyone overheard him; all of the park-goers were just as caught up in the holiday magic as he and Dean.

Dean shook his head, and pulled hard on Sam’s hand. “No, it’s Cas, Sammy, wook!”

“Dean-,“ Sam turned to apologize to someone he had bumped into trying to keep ahold of Dean.

“Hello, Sam.” Sam inhaled sharply, and swung back around. He would know that voice anywhere. “Cas,” He breathed.

Dean threw his little arms around Castiel’s legs. “Castell! I knew you would come!”

“Hello, little one.” Castiel effortlessly lifted Dean into his arms. Sam watched as he tucked his face into Dean’s neck and breathed in, before casting a smile down at Dean. “Have you been a good boy?”

Dean nodded vigorously. “Yes, Castell. I want wots of pwesents! Santa is gonna…Cas, I met Santa!”

“Did you?” Cas winked at Sam, who smiled and shook his head. Cas stepped closer to Sam, the three of them an island in the middle of passing people. “My apologies, Sam, for taking so long.”

Sam had to put effort into holding his arms at his sides. “As long as you’re healed, angel.”

Castiel nodded slightly. “Indeed I am.” He set Dean down, and promptly took the little boy’s hand. “Still though, it kept me-“

Sam took Dean’s other hand. “You had your reasons, Cas.” They walked down the lighted path, Dean safe between them, listening to Dean chatter away about the things he saw. “I’m just glad you made it back for Christmas.”

“Christmas is…an elaborate time in heaven.” Cas looked down at his feet as they walked. His black dress shoes were nice and shiny, perfectly complimenting his traditional black slacks, which blended into the night at direct contrast with his crisp white shirt.

Sam couldn’t wait to see his angel back in jeans and one of Sam’s own shirts. Shaking his head, he tuned back into what Cas was saying. “…not as welcome amongst my brothers and sisters as I once was.”

Nearing the end of the walk, Sam stopped, standing as close to Cas as he could with Dean still between them. “You are always welcome as a Winchester, Cas.”

“We have s’mores now, Sammy?” Dean tugged on Sam’s coat.

"Oh yeah." Sam smiled, gave Cas a wink, and reached for his wallet.

 

“I could snap my fingers, and this process would be complete,” Cas mused, watching Sam help Dean hold his marshmallow over the roaring fire.

“Yes, but then someone would notice, and we would spend our Christmas in the looney bin instead of our own house.” Sam pulled Dean closer against him, not trusting the precarious balance he had on the bricks surrounding the fire pit. “Besides, that’s not nearly as much fun.” He had placed a graham cracker in the palm of each of Castiel’s hands, with a brick of smooth milk chocolate on top.

“They weady, Sammy?” Dean shook the stick holding their marshmallows.

Sam slid each white puff onto the waiting chocolate, then pressed another graham cracker atop each one. “Good job, De! Careful, they are going to be hot.” He handed one of the s’mores to Dean, who wasted no time eating it, covering his face in sticky, delicious goo.

“It seems inordinately messy,” Castiel observed.

Sam took the second s’more from Castiel’s hands and bit into it. “And amazing,” he mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate and marshmallow.

“I do not-“

“Cas.” Sam shoved a bite of his s’more into Castiel’s mouth. “Shut up and try some.”

The angel caught the concoction on his tongue, deliberating the flavor.  “This is positively sinful, Sam.” Cas’s tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Taking a quick glance around, Sam leaned down and beat him to it. “Yes,” he whispered. The chocolate and marshmallow tasted even better coming off of Cas. “It is.”

“Sammy!” Dean tugged on Sam’s jeans. “We have one more?”

Sam couldn’t take his gaze off of Cas, whose blue eyes sparkled back at him even on the dark, starlit December night. “Perhaps we should listen to our little one, Sam.” Castiel suggested, his voice low.

Sam smiled. “Yeah.” He and Cas lifted Dean back up onto the low brick wall in front of the fire, one of their hands on either of Dean’s sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”

 

Tucked into bed later that night, Sam looked at Cas where he lay on the other side of Dean. His baby brother had fallen asleep minutes after hitting the pillow, worn out from their night of lights, s’mores, and Castiel’s return. Rubbing Dean’s back, Sam asked Cas softly, “Did you sing to Dean even while you were gone?”

Castiel turned his head to the side, his azure gaze seeming to take in every feature of Sam’s face. “Would you be angry with me if I said yes?”

Sam shook his head at the ridiculousness of the question. “How could I be angry with you for taking care of Dean?” Sam wrapped an arm around his brother and held Dean close as he slept. “I had no idea.”

Castiel lay on his back, one hand securely wrapped around Dean’s. “I did not want Dean to think I had abandoned him. Just like as an adult, Dean is tuned in to me on a special frequency. Although, he is much more receptive to it as a child than he was as a grown man.”

Sam huffed. “Yeah, that’s not surprising.” It had been weeks since he had fallen asleep in the same bed as Cas, but except for a slight awkwardness, it felt as if nothing had changed. “He told me you were coming back tonight. That you had told him so last night. I didn’t believe him.”

Castiel let out a very deep, very human, sigh. “I did not intend to hide from you, Sam. I could not communicate much down here, and I thought Dean might need the comfort. He seemed to have trouble sleeping when I left. I thought if I could sing him to sleep, albeit from Heaven, he might not feel my absence as deeply.” Cas reached across Dean for Sam’s hand, and it was only then that Sam felt his angel had truly returned. “I did not have enough grace to-“

Sam placed a finger against Castiel’s lips. “It’s okay, Cas. Really.” He thought about all the frustrations he had had at raising Dean alone, the short temper he had displayed earlier while getting him dressed.  “The truth is, I wasn’t ever mad at you for leaving. I know you needed to, and of course I want you healthy. I’m just not cut out to be the big brother, you know? All my life I’ve had Dean filing that role, and to have to do it for him is just…incredibly overwhelming.” Sam marveled at how tiny Dean’s hand was in his own. “He’s so small, you know? So innocent. He’s affectionate without reservation, and he’s an incredible little kid but he’s still just so helpless. It breaks my heart, all while at the same time making me feel like the most important person on earth.” Sam stopped talking, suddenly embarrassed, but continued when Cas squeezed his hand. “When you were here, I felt like raising Dean was just something we were doing to pass the time. But after you left, I just got sick to my stomach thinking, what if he never grows up again? What if you never come back, and what if I have to do it all alone?” Sam sat up, propping himself up on an elbow. “I don’t think I can do that, Cas.” Dean as a three year old was the heaviest responsibility Sam had ever had in his life, and even though his heart was pounding faster than a hummingbird’s, he felt lighter just saying all of his insecurities out loud, for only his angel to hear.

Warm fingers enveloped his, and Sam gave himself up to the feeling of Cas suddenly rolling over, pressing him down into the mattress while Dean slept peacefully beside them. “You don’t have to do this alone, Sam.” Soft lips grazed his. “Even if Dean never returns to his adult self, if we raise him over the next twenty years.” Cas settled on Sam’s other side, holding him close. “You will not have to do it alone.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick Christmas chapter, just in time. Heavy on the Sastiel, I promise the next chapters will be abundant with Little Dean.  
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Peace to All. Thank you, my lovelies, as always, for reading

The next morning, Dean awoke before his big brother. “Sammy?” Sam hummed and buried his face in his pillow.

Dean bopped Sam on the nose with Moose. “Sammy!”

“Shh.” Castiel sat up on Sam’s other side, using the arm that had been curled around Sam to gently nudge Dean’s stuffed animal away from Sam’s face. “Sammy is not awake yet, little one.”

“Sammy tired.” Dean observed, scooting backwards on his hands and knees to slide off of the bed.

Castiel rose, tucking the sheets back around Sam before holding his hand out to Dean.  After the last several weeks, and their conversation last night, Castiel wasn’t surprised that Sam needed some extra sleep. “Yes, I think our Sammy is very tired. Let us go downstairs, and he can rest a bit more.”

Dean tucked Moose under one arm and smiled up at Castiel, taking his hand. “’Kay.”

 

“And dis is our twee, and dees are cookies, you can have dis one Castell, and dats um, dats…” Dean scrunched up his face. “I forgot what dats called.”

“I believe that is your stocking, little one.” Castiel looked around the living room, at the little touches here and there that Sam had set out in order to make the house look decorated for the holidays.  Three red felt stockings were set along the fireplace, with each of their names written on them in what looked like black marker. Their enormous Christmas tree had only a few dollar store ornaments on it, but was strung with a cord of bright, multi-colored lights. Christmas cookies decorated generously with colored sugars were enclosed in Ziploc bags on the kitchen table.

Castiel glanced up the stairs, where Sam was still sleeping. Dean was sneaking himself a cookie, so Castiel took the opportunity to grace his Winchesters with a little bit of holiday magic. He stealthily made his way around the living room, flicking his wrists and snapping his fingers.

 

“Cas,” Sam said softly, looking around. The Christmas tree was now fully draped in ornaments of all colors and sizes, a huge silver garland, and thousands of strands of glittering tinsel. Fake snow now decorated the hearth and the floor surrounding the tree, and their stockings hung from the mantle on festive hooks. The kitchen smelled like coffee, and plates layered with pancakes, eggs, and bacon filled the table.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted. “Castell bwought Cwismas!”

“I see that, baby.” Sam lifted Dean into his arms, and snagged a piece of bacon. “Cas, this is-“

“It is only Christmas Eve, Sam,” Castiel said with a twinkle in his eye. He handed Sam a steaming mug. “You like coffee, yes?”

“Yes,” Sam nodded, giving Dean a good morning kiss on the cheek. “Cas-“

“I do not mean to overrun your Christmas, Sam.” Cas watched as Sam looked around the living room, taking in the elaborate display.

“No. This is…this looks amazing, Cas.” Sam set Dean down and took a sip of coffee. “Dean and I never had much in the way of Christmas decorations. Dean always did the best he could for me while Dad was out on hunts, but this.” Sam bent and kissed Cas on the cheek. “The most Christmas-y Christmas we had was actually the year before Dean…”

“Before Dean went to Hell.” Castiel held Sam’s hands in his own, running his thumbs over Sam’s knuckles.

Sam nodded. “Before we met you.”  He looked at Cas, hazel eyes meeting blue. Sam would never get enough of that look that graced Cas’s face, turned up to his, just before their lips-

“SAMMY!”

Sam smiled ruefully, and winked at Cas. “Yeah, De.”

“Santa come tonight, Sammy. And bwing pwesents!”

“That is correct, little one. Do you know what else Santa brings to good little boys?” Castiel asked, placing Dean in his chair.

Dean chomped down on a piece of bacon. “What?”

Cas flicked his wrist, and the table was alight with candles. “A little bit of Christmas magic.”

 

That night, Sam and Cas had a trial of a time getting Dean to sleep. An hour into the process, they were running out of options. “Santa only comes when little boys are asleep, baby.” Castiel instructed, tucking the sheets tightly around Dean.

Dean shook his head, his hair brushing the pillow. “Can’t sweep.” He bounced his legs under the sheets. “Too excited fo’ pwesents!”

“Dean.” Sam said sternly. “We have read three stories, you’ve gotten up for two glasses of water, and you’ve ‘pottied’ four times. It is way past your bedtime.”

Castiel looked towards the master bathroom, and snapped his fingers. The large tub started filling with steamy hot water, and Castiel raised an eyebrow at Sam. “You know, there are certain…perks of being an angel, that may come in handy here, Sam.” He looked pointedly at Dean.

“Santa, and Wudolph gonna come, and dey gonna bwing pwesents fo’ me, and fo’ Sammy, and fo’ Castell, and dey eat cookies, and-“ Dean babbled away.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure how much angel mojo he wanted to use on Dean, but tonight, eyeing the way that Castiel’s shirt was half undone, his belt off, and the large Jacuzzi tub rapidly filling with bubbles, Sam was seriously considering letting Cas work his magic on Dean to get him to sleep.  

He nodded at Cas. Giving Dean a kiss on his nose, Sam whispered, “Goodnight, baby. We will see you in the morning.” He walked towards the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Cas as he let his long-sleeved shirt fall to the floor.

“Sammy no sweep wiv me?”

Castiel placed a large hand on Dean’s hair, brushing his face gently. “Of course we will sleep with you, little one. Sam just needs to get ready for bed. I shall sing until you fall asleep, okay?”

Dean nodded sleepily against Castiel’s shoulder. A quick hum, and two fingers to his forehead, and their little boy was asleep.                

 

Leaning back against Cas amidst a bathtub full of bubbles, Sam sighed, relaxed and contented, but still…

Castiel’s warm hands ran along Sam’s shoulders. “You are still tense. Something is on your mind.”

Sam glanced into the bedroom through the slight crack in the door, where Dean lay sleeping without his brother or his angel. “I am the worst parent ever.” Sam felt selfish, laying here relaxing in the bubbles, his back against his angel’s chest.

“I could tell you hundreds, perhaps thousands, of stories that would refute that claim, Sam.” Castiel ran soapy hands along Sam’s arms, his chest. “You have nothing to apologize for. Dean is safe, he is loved, and he knows this. Otherwise, I would not have been able to put him down so easily.” Castiel kneaded and rubbed Sam’s shoulders, working out the tension. Sam felt soft, warm lips on his collarbone. “I am sorry, Sam, that I was not here more to help you.”

Sam tipped his head up, so he could meet Castiel’s lips with his own. Never in a million years would he imagined himself here, encircled in their angel’s arms, watching his baby brother sleep while getting cleansed of all his sins. “You’re here now,” he said softly.

“I am.” Castiel reassured. He slid down further into the bubbles, his body brushing against Sam’s. “I am.”

 

“Sammy! Sammy! Sammy!”

Sam groaned, and pushed his face down into the nice, warm pocket against his cheek. It felt suspiciously like a certain angel’s shoulder.  “Mmm.”

“SAMMY!” Dean jumped on him, his little hands squeezing Sam’s cheeks. “Wake up, Sammy! It’s Cwismas! Santa came!  Santa bwought pwesents!”

Sam sat up, smiling at Dean’s excitement. “He did?” He snuggled Dean close. “Well then let’s go see!”

The three of them bounded down the stairs, living their Christmas vicariously through Dean’s childish eyes.  Dean tore into his presents, the amount easily doubled from what Sam had left under the tree the night before. “Cas,” he scolded. Sam looked at their angel, who only shrugged innocently.

“Sammy! Wook! A fire twuck!” Dean yelled, holding the red fire engine up high. Sam grinned at him, happy that he had guessed correctly at what Dean had wanted, even before their visit to Santa. Dean opened up several more gifts, toys and stuffed animals that he wouldn’t have even been able to dream of in his other childhood.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” Castiel settled behind Sam to watch their baby boy open presents. Sam leaned back into Castiel’s chest, safe and secure in the arms of his angel. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

 

Lying in bed that night, Dean fast asleep and clutching tight to Moose, Sam and Cas lay on either side of their little boy. “Sam.” Castiel reached behind him for something on the nightstand. “Christmas is almost over, and I have yet to give you your present.”

Sam propped himself up on an elbow. “Cas, you don’t need to-“

“You may choose not to wear it if you wish.” Castiel handed him a small, silver box. “But considering the circumstances, I feel it may come in handy.”  Cas ran a hand along Dean’s hair as he watched Sam open his gift.

Sam lifted out a bracelet, with one solid, shiny charcoal grey stone. It had a hole drilled into the middle, through which a leather cord was threaded. Sam squinted at the faint etching in the stone.

Castiel’s fingers entwined with his, and Sam offered his left wrist up to Cas. “It has a drop of my grace in it,” Cas explained. As he spoke, a slight blue flame fluttered in the center of the stone. Sam watched in awe as Cas fastened it onto his wrist. “You can ward yourself against all other angels, but as long as you wear this, I shall still be able to find you.”

“Cas.” Sam couldn’t find the words. “This is…”

“You may take it off anytime you wish,” Castiel said quickly. “It only activates for me if it rests against your skin.” His lips brushed Sam’s ear. “Your soul.”

Sam shook his head. “I won’t take it off.”

Cas encircled Sam’s wrist with his fingers, covering his bracelet. “I also have something similar to add to Dean’s necklace. The amulet he wears, that you gave him. But I wanted to ask your permission before I-“

“He will love it.” Sam sat up, and leaned over Dean to firmly press his lips against Castiel’s, no longer the least bit shy or confused as to what was happening between them. “These gifts are amazing, Cas.”

“You and Dean are amazing, Sam.”

Sam smiled against Castiel’s lips, before settling down in his arms, Dean sleeping soundly between them. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovelies. I've missed you so much. It's been a rough couple months. I am so sorry for the delay, but seeing kudos still coming in from a work I haven't added to in almost three months has been the biggest comfort. I hope you're still with me, and will forgive Little Dean and I for keeping you waiting. I am full of the fluff lately; the next chapter should have more carefree-ness :)  
> xoxoxo stay beautiful

_Two months later…_

“NO!” Dean screeched, his face a twisted grimace, full of toddler angst. “No, no. no!”

“Dean,” Sam said through clenched teeth, for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I am not gonna tell you again. It’s time to get out of the tub.”

Dean threw his new speedboat bath toy against the wall, then flung his arms down into the water, splashing Sam in the face. “Don’t wanna! Wanna pway wiv my toys!”

Sam swiped a hand down his face, clearing the water from his eyes. He was holding onto his impatience by a thread, and was trying his best not to take it out on Dean.

Seriously. Cute as Dean was, Sam was seriously over this bout of toddler angst. “Dean,” he said slowly, “Bathtime. Is over. It’s time. For bed.” Every word was enunciated, measured. It was all Sam could do to hold on to his temper. He was tired of cajoling Dean from the tub.

Yeah, he and Cas had splurged a little on new toys. And okay, Sam would be the first to admit that their Jacuzzi tub was pretty sweet.

_Leaning against Cas, the warmth of his skin and the heat of the water, the bubbles just barely revealing enough slick, sinful skin, Sam’s chin turned up, Castiel’s mouth tipped down, their hands searching, fingers gripping, hips pulsing-_

Sam shook his head, and refocused his efforts on Dean. Yeah, so, sweet tub, but it was way past Dean’s bedtime, and ever since Christmas, Sam and Cas had been a little lax in the rules of the house, playtime and bedtime being two of them. It was halfway through March now, and Dean was no closer to being thirty again than Sam was to suddenly sprouting a tail.

“Dean. I know you love bathtime, baby, and we can play tomorrow. We are going to Project X, remember?” Sam said, hoping to persuade Dean into good behavior.

Project X was a new, enormous construction site on the outskirts of town, though what was being built was unknown. But there were acres of tilled dirt, bulldozers, excavators, cranes, and all kinds of construction equipment.  They had driven past it one day and Dean’s head had been craned all the way towards the window, as far as his car seat would allow, taking in all the mammoth machines, rumbling and groaning and moving dirt and metal beams. He had been fascinated, and Sam had promised that they would come back and visit.

Castiel could not even come close to understanding the fascination, but he had noticed that Dean’s face had lit up when Sam had asked at breakfast this morning if Dean wanted to check out the site, and so they made plans to visit the site tomorrow.

Dean was excited, but couldn’t quite make the connection between his outing and good behavior. He splashed Sam right in the face this time, no toy throwing involved, and fixed Sam with a pouting stare. “Sammy no fun.”

Okay. That was it. “Dean. Winchester. You are out of that tub. Right now.” Sam leaned over and scooped Dean up, slippery and wet and naked, wrapped him in a towel, and threw him over his shoulder.

Ignoring the screeches and little fists pounding his shoulder blades, Sam carried him from the bathroom. Sitting down on the master bed, Sam settled Dean in his lap, making sure his brother stayed nice and warm within the towel. “Listen here, mister. The splashing? Not okay. The yelling? Not okay. The hitting? _Definitely_ not okay.” Sam bounced him a little on his knee, and set Dean upright on his lap, facing Sam. Sam gently gripped Dean’s chin, and willed himself to stay strong in the face of those watery, green eyes. “Dean.” His poor baby had been through so much in the last several months. But Sam would stay strong, for both of them. “Whining and crying is not how we get our way.” Sam saw Cas entering the room out of the corner of his eye, but stayed focused on Dean.  They had been having more discipline problems than usual lately, but none so much as the splashing tonight. “And hitting and splashing are not nice. How would you like it if you were taking a bath, and you and I were playing, and Castiel came in and just splashed you in the face?”

Dean hiccupped, and rubbed his eyes. “”M so tired, Sammy.”

Sam wrapped Dean in a hug. “I know, baby.” Sam looked helplessly at Cas. Dean had been having more nightmares, since the new year, and both Sam and Cas had been helpless to stop them. Cas used his angel mojo to help Dean sleep sometimes, but he and Sam kind of treated that like a drug; okay in small doses, but they didn’t want Dean to get hooked on it. Sam was determined to parent in a normal, healthy way, for as long as Dean was little.

Even though the demons that plagued his little boy were nowhere near normal.

They had tried to give Dean his own room, with his own little bed, now that they had a house to themselves. But it wasn’t working for any of them, and Sam had to admit that Dean did sleep better when sandwiched between him and Cas in their king-sized bed in their master bedroom. As much as he’d like some privacy with his angel once in awhile…

“Come here, little one.” Cas took Dean into his arms, and in an instant had Dean out of the damp towel and into warm pajamas. “We shall still go see your construction site tomorrow. But I will expect you to be on your best behavior, yes?”

Dean nodded sleepily, already settling in against Castiel’s chest. “Yes, Castell.” Dean shoved two fingers into his mouth, his eyes drooping.

“Cas, his birthday was two months ago, but he doesn’t seem any older-“ Sam was cut off by a gentle hum from Cas. “We will talk about that later, Sam.” Same as he had been saying for two months. But Sam couldn't fault him, as Cas was always there to help Sam with Dean, always there to help Sam relax, to de-stress…

Sam loved seeing Dean cradled in Castiel’s arms, knowing there was someone else he loved that would keep him safe. 

Sam sent Cas a grateful half smile, which Cas acknowledged with an affectionate nod even as he continued to speak soothingly to Dean. “You will sleep tonight, little one, with your Sammy and me. You are safe, do you hear me? Nothing will touch you, while Sam and I are around. You are safe.” Castiel held Dean while Sam changed and settled into bed, then placed their little boy back in Sam’s arms. He crawled into bed on Dean’s other side, and began to hum. “You will sleep tonight,” he assured Dean again.

Gripping Sam’s hand, he hummed softly, until both Winchester brothers had fallen asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

Tiny hands prodded Sam the next morning, pushing and poking him through the covers. Sam mumbled something unintelligible and burrowed deeper beneath his pillow. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and his nose was running so badly Sam knew he should fumble across the nightstand for the tissues, but he was too tired to move his arm. “Mmmf.” _Go away_ , Sam thought. _Sleep. Let me sleep._

Poke. Poke poke push. “Sammy?”

Sam groaned, feeling even worse for ignoring his little brother, but feeling too miserable to get up. “Dean.” Sam rolled onto his back, which made him choke on the congestion built up inside his head, and he shot up quickly, doubling over in a coughing fit.

“Oh, no.” Dean’s eyes went wide. “Sammy sick.”

“Sam.” Cas was at his side in an instant, shooing Dean aside. “Go to your own room, little one, and wait for me.”

“But Sammy no feel good.” Dean said worriedly. “I stay and hewp.”

Sam saw Cas give Dean a gentle push to his backside. “Go on, Dean. I do not want you to get sick as well.”

“’M not sick,” Sam insisted feebly. “Is just allergies,” he slurred.

“Allergies or not, you need to stay in bed.” Cas ordered. “There will be no construction site for you today.”

“Noooo!” Dean wailed from the hallway, not having made the whole trip to his room. “Sammy you come wiv us!”

Sam almost chuckled, he so loved Dean’s sweetness, but it sent him into another coughing fit. “Allergy meds.” He choked out.  “Bathroom. Be fine.”

Castiel rose to get the requested pills, but stayed insistent. “You need rest, Sam. Project X is not going anywhere.”

“Sammy!” Dean shouted out, eager to come back and see his brother but staying just outside the bedroom so as not to anger Cas. “Sammy come wiv us,” he whispered.

Sam reached for the pills gratefully, and dutifully drank the entire glass of water Castiel had brought him. “Seriously, angel. I’ll be okay. These hit me every spring.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Although this time is a little worse…”, Sam admitted.  He bent forward, seeking out Castiel’s cool fingers against his burning forehead. “Gotta take Dean.” Project X wouldn’t be around forever, and Sam knew how excited his little brother was to see all the big construction machines in action.

Castiel soothed Sam’s flushed skin with his cool touch, pressing a kiss to Sam’s temple. “I can take Dean.”

Sam pouted. “Dammit.”

Cas held back a smile. “Sam. You have shown Dean many things. You are not failing as a fath- as someone in a parental role by sitting this one out, for not feeling good.” He said gently.

Sam pushed his head into Castiel’s hand before sinking back into the pillows. “’Tell Dean ‘m sorry,” he murmured, sinking quickly back towards sleep. He pressed a sloppy kiss to Castiel’s fingers, still laying against his cheek. “Lov’ you.” And with that, he was out cold.

Castiel sucked in a breath. He tucked the sheets more firmly around Sam, then stepped into the hallway to collect Dean. “Shall we go, little one?”

Dean was oblivious to Castiel’s wonder over Sam’s slurred revelation. “Po’ Sammy.” Dean looked up at Cas, his disappointment fading quickly for being in the arms of his angel. “Yay! We go!”

 

Four hours later, back from Project X, at which an overly nice construction supervisor led Dean and Castiel around the site (Castiel would remember to thank Sam later for outfitting him with proper casual clothes) and even giving Dean his own mini hard hat to keep, Castiel swiftly deposited Dean in front of the TV and went to check on Sam.

Castiel’s vessel’s heart sped up when he found the bed empty, and no Sam on the first floor. Making his way through the bedroom, Cas called worriedly, “Sam?”

“In here!” Castiel followed Sam’s voice into the bathroom, where he found his lover lounging in a hot bubble bath. Castiel leaned against the door, drinking in the sight of Sam’s long, muscular body lying supine in their large Jacuzzi tub. “How are you feeling?”

Sam lifted one eye open, taking in Castiel’s plain black tee shirt and dark denim jeans. He smirked. “Wonderful.”

Castiel resisted the very human urge to roll his eyes, as he had seen adult Dean do numerous times. He knelt beside the tub. “How is your fever, love?” He pressed a hand to Sam’s forehead, testing his temperature.

“Mmm.” Sam leaned into the touch. “Better. Throat hurts like a bitch though.” Sam knew better than to lie to his angel. “And I can’t stop sneezing.”

Castiel frowned.  He handed Sam another allergy pill and a glass of water.

“How’s Dean? Did he have fun at the site? Where is he?”

Cas pressed a firm hand to Sam’s shoulder when he tried to get out of the tub. “Dean is fine. He misses his Sammy, but I should say he had a great time today. He is downstairs, watching TV.”

“Gotta go see-“ Sam was stopped once again by a hand as strong as granite.

“You ‘gotta’ relax,” Castiel ordered, imitating Sam. “Finish your bath. Let the pill do its work. I will make us a light dinner, and then you are going back to bed.”

Sam shivered. “Get all squirmy when you take charge, angel.”  Cas shot him a look as he exited the bathroom, and fought back a laugh when Sam just winked. At least his Winchester wasn’t feeling _too_ much worse.

 

“Sammy froat huwrt?” Dean asked, after Cas had come down and said that his Sammy still wasn’t feeling well.

‘”It does, little one.” Castiel rummaged through the fridge, looking for something easy to make that he could feed his Winchesters.

“He needs ice cweam.” Dean declared.

Castiel straightened, the refrigerator door still hanging open. “I am sorry?”

Dean climbed up Castiel’s leg, reaching his arms up to be lifted. Castiel automatically obliged, and when he was at his achieved height, Dean wrapped both hands around the freezer door handle and pulled. “Ice cweam make Sammy’s froat feel better.”

Cas looked down at Dean with an expression of wonder. “Do you know what, little one?” Cas watched Dean hug two tubs of ice cream to his chest, not even feeling the freezing temperature. He grabbed three bowls and three spoons, nudged the freezer door shut with his shoulder, and hitched Dean higher onto his hip before trekking upstairs. “I do believe you are right.”

 

“Oh, my G- uh, oh, man, Cas.” Sam dug his spoon into the rich French vanilla ice cream. “This is amazing. Feels so good. Thank you.” He kissed Castiel’s cheek, his lips as cold as the ice cream he was eating.

“Don’t thank me,” Cas said, enjoying his own mix of vanilla and chocolate. Yes, he could see the appeal of this frozen dessert. “It was Dean’s idea.”

“Ice cweam make you feel better, Sammy!” Dean said happily, his lips smacking against his spoon.

Sam laughed, taking in his little brother grinning around a mess of chocolate ice cream around his mouth. “Thank you, baby. I feel much better already.” He looked at Cas over Dean’s head. Sam was glad that Dean didn’t have to miss out on his construction day because of Sam’s sickness, but he’d be lying if he said having his family around him, eating ice cream in bed, didn’t make him feel instantly better.

Still though, he was pretty exhausted from fighting off his severe allergy attack, and he set his bowl on the nightstand.  Castiel noticed Sam’s eyes starting to droop, and he set aside his finished bowl as well. “Finish up, Dean.” He ordered gently. “We need to let Sam get to bed.”

“I sweep in here?”

“No, little one. We do not want-“

“He won’t get sick, Cas.” Sam said softly. “He can’t catch my allergies.” Castiel looked skeptical, but Sam insisted, and pulled out the clincher phrase. “I’ll sleep better with you two with me.” He translated the rest to Cas with just a look. They both knew Dean wouldn’t sleep on his own tonight, after being snug in their bed with ice cream, and knowing Sam didn’t feel good.

“Very well,” Castiel relented. He picked Dean up and carried him into the bathroom. “Bathtime for you, little one. Then bed.”

“Yo’ bed?” Dean asked hopefully.

Cas chuckled, turning on the water, loading the tub with bath toys. “Yes, baby. Our bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading, lovelies   
> <3


	24. Chapter 24

_“Damn, Sammy. What the hell are you thinkin’?” Dean asked, running a rag gently coated in gun oil over the now gleaming piece of metal in his lap. “Cas? Seriously? Guy doesn’t even know how to hunt.” Dean frowned. “Also, the guy is…well. A guy.”_

_Sam thought about the vampires on Halloween and clenched his teeth, glaring at Dean over his laptop. Not that Dean was paying him any attention, no, his brother’s full green gaze was one hundred percent concentrated on the gun in his lap. “Cas can hunt.” Sam said shortly._

_Dean shrugged. “Yeah, prelim work maybe. Keep the guys subdued until we get there. And he’s pretty good with his angel blade, I guess.” Dean set the piece down, picked up Sam’s, because of course Sam couldn’t do as good of a job keeping his gun clean as Dean could._

_As his Dad could._

_“But still,” Dean continued. “I didn’t really know you swung that way. And there’s no way he knows anything about sex, the dude can’t even pick out a decent movie. I mean don’t you have to teach him everything?” Dean’s face scrunched up. “Too weird, man, you and Cas. Just doesn’t make sense. Just doesn’t.”_

_Sam’s heart sped up, his fists too clenched to keep typing in research keywords, sweat forming on his brow. He could feel something poking him in the back, repeatedly boring into his shoulders, driving into him, poking him, tormenting him, provoking him…_

_“No sense. No sense. No sense,” Dean repeated, as Sam’s blood pressure rose, his breathing quickened, that goddamn poking sped up._

_“Sam?” Dean asked, and what, was he trying to get a fucking rise out of him now? Because it was working, Sam was pissed. He and Cas made sense, (didn’t they??) and even if they didn’t, well who the hell did they have to explain that to, Sam was happy, dammit, and seriously, what the hell was poking at him…_

_“Sammy?”_

_Blood pulsing, breath quickening, too loud, too quiet, his rage too contained, needed to be let out, and that poking, that fucking poking, pushing, pushing, pushing-_

_“Sammy? Sammy?”_

“Sammy? Sammy? Sammy!”

“WHAT?!” Sam snapped. He shot up in bed, coming out of the dream like a runner from a starting pistol, his breath still coming fast, sweat covering his brow, yelling at Dean, asking him what the f-

Shit. Yelling at Dean.

Yelling at the tiny, wide-eyed three year old version of Dean, poking him gently between his shoulder blades to wake Sam up.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered. “I hafta potty.”

Sam blew out a breath, and ran a not quite steady hand through his sweaty hair. Dream. It was only a dream. A very vivid dream.

Dean wasn’t thirty again, Sam reassured himself, he wasn’t old enough and capable enough to handle a gun. He wasn’t asking about what Sam and Cas were. Dean wasn’t testing him, baiting Sam until he snapped. No, it was Sam’s own messed up head doing all of that. He needed a break, needed some real sleep, needed…something. Sam didn’t know what. He sighed heavily.

Sam looked down, into Dean’s innocent and, at the moment, quite needy gaze. Castiel lay next to them, indulging in a rare, genuine slumber. Sam barely noticed the dim light from the alarm clock by the bed- 4:42 am - as he gently moved the sheets off enough to crawl out without waking Cas.

Sam set Dean on the toilet, still trying to shake the dream. He really hadn’t had many vivid dreams since this whole thing started, no, those had mainly plagued his poor little baby brother. Sam closed his eyes and tried to picture Dean, thirty year old Dean- the older brother he was supposed to have, not the little miniature version, that was too small to go potty by himself or button up his own jeans, the one who was plagued with nightmares but while being so little could actually admit it. The little boy who wanted to be carried everywhere, to snuggle up with his brother and his angel, the boy who had fully and completely melded his tiny little way into Sam’s heart…

“All done,” Dean declared, hopping off the toilet, catching himself on Sam’s sleep pants to stay steady. Dean flushed, then reached his arms up to Sam, so Sam could hold him up at the sink to wash his hands.

The little boy who Sam, now, nightmares be damned, wasn’t sure he would trade for anything.

“Shh!” Dean scolded unnecessarily as they crawled back into bed next to Castiel. “No wake up Cas.”

Sam smiled, and tucked Dean back in, wrapping himself around his baby brother, cuddling any and all space on the tiny little toddler he could reach. Dean snuggled his face into Castiel’s shoulder and promptly fell back asleep.

Sam took a little longer to drift off, staying awake to first brush Dean’s hair off his forehead, then using the same tender gesture on Cas, all while calmly and firmly telling his own anxious thoughts that they could fuck right off.

Because, Sam mused, settling further into the covers, wrapping his long arms around both his baby and his angel, one thought in that whole mess of a stressful dream had been correct.

Sam Winchester was happy.

 

Dean slept in a bit later than usual, perhaps due to his middle of the night potty break. Sam, for the first time in a long time, rose earlier than both Dean and Castiel, silently slipping out of bed so as not to wake either one.

Sam looked fondly back down towards the bed, at his angel’s rumpled hair, those beautiful blue eyes closed in sleep (which Cas sorely needed, as far as Sam was concerned, vessel strength be damned), took in Dean’s little freckled nose, and the tiny hand that was fisted in the fabric of Castiel’s dark plaid pajama pants.

Sam’s eyes wandered upwards from those pajama pants, over the sharp, bare cut of Castiel’s hips, the dusty trail of hair over his lean stomach, the line between his pecs, the outline of his jaw, his lips-

Sam chuckled to himself, and tucked the sheets around his two boys before walking away, before his own pajama pants grew any tighter.

He started a pot of coffee, indulging in the earthy, pleasant smell of the dark roast, and the silence of the morning. He debated going for a run, like he used to, but decided he didn’t want to miss out on seeing either of his boys waking up, coming down the stairs still foggy from sleep, or, as Dean sometimes did, bouncing down the steps, ready to face the day.

Sam pulled down two coffee mugs, grabbed apple juice from the fridge for Dean. Thinking of his brother, and how badly he would be made fun of by thirty-year-old Dean for becoming so damn domestic (Sam froze for a second, remembering Dean’s slight condemnation in Sam’s dream, of his being with Cas, but quickly shrugged it off,) Sam laughed to himself about how if Dean ever did get back to his normal age, well, he would just have to get the hell over it, because sure, Sam kind of missed hunting, but he loved being in one house, with one man, sleeping in the same bed night after night, with that same man…

Soft footsteps interrupted his musings, and Sam turned towards them in the midst of laying out eggs, butter, and bacon. “Mornin’, angel.” Sam drawled lazily, pressing the lever down on the toaster.

Castiel shuffled across the tiled kitchen floor, his hair disheveled and the drawstring of his plaid pajama pants starting to unravel. He slid effortlessly into Sam’s waiting arms. “Good morning,” he responded, his voice still gravelly with sleep. Castiel tipped his head up in invitation, and Sam gladly chased Cas’s lips with his own.

“Dean?” Sam asked softly, nipping softly where his teeth had just grazed. Sam had a fleeting thought that he hoped Dean wouldn’t roll out of the king sized bed, without either of them as a buffer, but he didn’t worry about it too much.

“Still sleeping,” Cas answered roughly, rising up slightly to meet Sam, coming more awake with every pass of lips. He wrapped his hand around Sam’s wrist, closing around the bracelet he had given Sam, causing Sam to shiver at the subtle hint of possession.

Sam’s hips rolled forward, into Castiel’s, and he slid his hands down to cup Cas’s ass. “Hmm. We need a second bed.” This, this is what Sam needed, this intimacy, this release…

“Couch,” Cas hummed, already walking backwards, sure that Sam would follow.

“Yes,” Sam gasped as Cas squeezed him just there, and bent his knees to pick Cas up beneath his thighs, reveling in the way his angel’s legs wrapped around his waist. Sam walked them towards the couch, towards heaven, towards release-

“Sammy?”

Sam cursed, because damn, he had _just_ dropped Castiel onto the sofa, their tongues wrestling, hips meeting-

“SAMMY!”

Sam groaned, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s, trying to slow his breath, his heartbeat.

“Go on,” Cas instructed gently, a smile playing on his lips. “I will continue breakfast.”

“Rather continue something else,” Sam mumbled, but he grinned when he felt Cas playfully swat his butt.

“Go get our little boy. I will have coffee waiting.”

Something jumped inside of Sam’s chest, hearing Cas talk about Dean like that, and, frustrated though he was, Sam took the steps two at a time to get upstairs and reach his baby. “Dean?”

“Hi, Sammy.” Dean was scooting himself backwards off the bed, Moose in one hand, Dean’s tummy sliding against the comforter on his way down. “Where you go? I wake up and no find you, or Castell.”

Sam scooped Dean up into his arms and kissed his baby soft cheeks. “Just waiting on you, baby boy.” Sam nuzzled Dean’s neck, making him giggle, then tossed him over his shoulder. “Breakfast is waiting, De, and I’ve got a cup of juice and some bacon with your name on it.”

 

“Dean!” Castiel called out in frustration. “Get back here this instant and put on your pants!”

Dean ran through the house, giggling maniacally at his own cunning. “No! No pants!” He ran downstairs, and vaulted onto Sam’s lap, flushed and out of breath. “Hi, Sammy.”

“Dean.” Sam caught his baby brother, taking in his long sleeved plaid shirt and Lightening McQueen underwear. Sam bopped him on the nose. “Go back up and finish getting dressed.”

Dean shook his head. “Castell silly, Sammy. He’s too swow. No pants! He can’t catch me!”

“I am too what, young man?”

Dean shrieked when he saw Castiel coming down the stairs after him, holding a pair of Dean’s jeans. Cas crouched down, looking Dean in the eye, with a glint in his own. “I could zap you over here in a second, little one.”

“Can’t catch me!” Dean challenged again. He slid off Sam’s lap and set off at another run, sneaking past Cas to zip back up the stairs.

Cas looked to Sam, one eyebrow raised. Sam shrugged. “I would say let him run it off, but then he will be too tired for the zoo.”

Without looking, Castiel shot out an arm on Dean’s way back downstairs, catching him against his chest. “You put up a valiant effort, little one.” Cas wrestled Dean into his jeans and sneakers in three smooth motions while holding Dean.

Dean went limp, hanging off of Castiel’s arm. “Poop.”

Sam laughed. “De, come on. We are going to the zoo, remember? You wanted to see all the animals?”

“Oh yeah!” Dean perked back up in Castiel’s arms. He scrambled to get down, and ran over to Sam, telling him all the animals he wanted to see.

A sudden, steady dripping sound caught their attention. Sam pulled back the curtains to see rain pelting the windowpanes.

“Oh, no,” Dean said sadly. He turned his face up to Sam, his green eyes watering. “It’s waining.”

“Damn,” Sam uttered softly.

Cas came to stand behind Dean. “Animals still live in the rain, yes?”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, but the zoo won’t have many of them out. Besides, it would be miserable to walk around in the rain.” He really had wanted to get Dean out of the house, doing something fun where he might actually learn something. Dean was too young for school still, not that Sam was even sure he was ready to take that step yet anyway.

“Perhaps we play here inside then.” Castiel concluded logically.

Sam’s head snapped up. He smiled, whipping out his phone to look up an address. “Nope. I know where we can go.”

 

Sam held Dean’s hand as they walked up the steps to the Children’s Museum.  “This place has all kinds of things, De.” Sam said excitedly. “Dinosaurs, a miniature chemistry lab, an indoor construction zone…Oh! And a model airplane exhibit where you can make your own plane!”

“It is also for children,” Cas reminded Sam good-naturedly, Dean’s little backpack of supplies slung over his shoulder. He was dressed in jeans and a plain, charcoal grey tee, forgoing a jacket unlike Sam and Dean who actually still felt the early spring chill.

“I know,” Sam mumbled, holding Dean’s hand as they passed their tickets to the lady at the counter. Sam gestured for Cas to go in front of him, Sam’s gaze roving up and down Castiel as they entered the heart of the museum. Dean immediately ran over to the ginormous T-Rex fossil statue that marked the start of the dinosaur exhibit, and Sam took the opportunity to lean down and whisper to Cas, “The casual look suits you, angel.”

“So you have said.” Castiel returned in a low, gravelly voice. He sauntered away from Sam, keeping one eye on him and one eye on Dean. “Behave yourself, Sam Winchester.”

Sam grinned, and hurried to catch up to his family.

 

“Sammy! I fink the tee-wex was my favewite. His teef so big and he goes RAWWRRR! And he eat all the other dinosawrs.” Dean chattered excitedly as they left the dinosaur exhibit. “Was the tee-wex yo favewite? No,” Dean answered for Sam. “The bwontosawus! Because he’s tall wike you, Sammy.”

Sam chuckled. “I kind of liked the Stegosaurus, De. I like those big spikes.” Sam ran a hand along Dean’s back, poking him gently where his spikes would be. “Do you have spikes?”

Dean giggled. “No!” he shouted, baring his teeth. “I have fangs. Wike tee-wex!” He turned and walked backwards so he could still face Sam, holding his tiny hands up, fingers bent over like claws. “Rawr!” Dean stumbled when he accidentally bumped into someone. “Oops,” he said quietly, reaching for Sam’s hand.

“Ex- _cuse_ me.” The lady said rudely, glaring down at Dean.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “He got a little excited and wasn’t watching where-“

“Hmmph.” The lady straightened her coat, one much too fancy for a day out to a children’s museum, in Sam’s opinion, and looked at Sam, then Cas, then Dean. “Mmm hmm. No wonder your boy has no manners. Indecent, is what it is.” She huffed off, leaving them in a cloud of her rudeness.

“I’m sowwy, Sammy.” Dean said softly, his lip quivering. Castiel ran a hand along Dean’s hair, his touch calming Dean.

“Hey,” Sam took Dean’s hand, squeezed it reassuringly. It took all he had not to pick Dean up and snuggle him, shelter from anyone being rude like that again, but that wouldn’t be the way to carry on with Dean’s fun museum day. Sam didn’t want to make the exchange any more of a big deal than it was. “Not your fault, baby boy. It’s okay.” Sam felt better when he felt Castiel take his other hand, proud of his angel’s small act of affection and, in this small town it seemed, defiance. “Let’s go check out some airplanes!”

 

It turned out that Dean got distracted from the airplanes when he spotted a children’s construction zone, and he raced over to put on a mini hard hat before diving into a pile of blocks.

“She didn’t even have a kid,” Sam muttered later to Cas, as they watched Dean explore the miniature building site. Dean was still shy with other kids- Sam figured that was his fault, Dean wasn’t given the opportunity to socialize much- but he was working with a little girl to build a sky scraper from the over-sized blocks of all different shapes and colors on one of the elevated tables.

“Or much patience, it seemed.” Castiel replied. He rested a hand on the back of Sam’s hip, just above his ass, in a way that was more affectionate than sexual. “Dean is fine, Sam. Do your best to forget her.”

Sam shifted slightly closer to his angel, watching Dean help the little girl reach more blocks. The museum had large, kid-friendly pictures with building structure hints located around all the tables, but Dean and the girl seemed to ignore them in favor of their own design, and that made Sam smile. “Three years old and he’s still workin’ it with the ladies.” Sam joked.

Castiel chuckled, and they stood their together, watching their little boy make a new friend.

“Best damn skyscraper this world ever seen, you ask me.” A large, barrel-chested man with a scruffy face and a Cajun drawl stood at the railing overlooking the building exhibit with Sam and Cas.

Sam stiffened for only a moment, relaxing a little when the man genially held out a hand. “Benny LaFitte. That’s my little girl your boy has got designs on over there.”

Sam smiled back, and shook the man’s hand. “Sam Winchester. This is my…uh. This is-“

“No worries, brother, I know what he is.” Benny held out his hand to Cas.

“Castiel,” Cas introduced himself gruffly.

“Nice to meet y’all.” Benny said melodically. “This your first time here?” It sounded more like “he-yah”, and Sam felt comforted by Benny’s open warmth.

“Yeah,” Sam answered, looking back towards Dean. “We were planning on the zoo, but the rain kind of nixed that.”

“My little angel and I come here couple times a month,” Benny said conversationally. “Good for the mind. She loves it.”

“She’s adorable.” Sam commented. “Dean doesn’t always make friends easily.”

“Ain’t no one sweeter than my Carly Jane.” Benny said without compunction. “Though she will smack your boy if he goes too far,” Benny joked, winking at Sam.

“As well she should,” Sam agreed, his heart lighter after talking with Benny, who seemed to be the complete antithesis to the rude woman they had encountered earlier.    His smile grew wider when he saw Dean boost the little girl onto the table, so that she could place more of their blocks higher on their skyscraper.

Dean turned towards them then. “Sammy!” he shouted. “Come see!”  Sam gave Benny and his little girl a wave as they moved on, then turned his attention on Dean as his little boy showed off his building. “And nat’s where they meet, Sammy, the super hewoes, and dis where they eat, and dis part has all their cars, for when ney don’t feel wike fwying.” Dean pointed to each place on his skyscraper in turn.

“I think that is the coolest superhero skyscraper ever, De.” Sam marveled.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. He leaned back into Castiel’s legs, suddenly shy at Sam’s praise.

“Hey,” Sam nudged him. “Why don’t we get something to eat, and then I’ll show you where you can make your very own plane?”

Dean perked up again. “One that fwies?”

Sam gave him a fake scoff. “Heck yeah, one that flies!” Sam scooped Dean up and set him atop his shoulders. “Come on.”

 

After they had grabbed a quick lunch at the museum’s cafeteria, Sam and Dean and Cas headed over to the airplane exhibit, where there was a station set up that children could craft their own paper airplanes and then test fly them in a long rectangular structure that has pulsed air flowing out, so that kids could see their planes in action.

Sam paused when Castiel suddenly stilled, gasping quietly and pressing his hands to his temples. “Cas? You okay?” Dean was dragging their hands forward, excited to make his own airplane.

Cas lowered his hand, and straightened. “I am fine, Sam. Just a sudden tune in to my fellow angels, that is all.”

Sam gave a concerned hum, still seeing some turmoil in his angel’s icy blue eyes. “If you need a minute-“

“I am fine, Sam.” Cas repeated firmly. Cas nodded at him to go on, that he would catch up.

“Sammy! I wanna go make a pwane!”  Dean shouted.

And that was that, it seemed, so Sam followed his baby brother.

 

Ten minutes later, Cas joined Dean where he sat at a small table, drawing on a piece of paper. “Where is your Sammy, little one?” Castiel asked Dean.

“He’s over dere.” Dean pointed, without looking up from his picture.

Castiel huffed out a laugh when he spotted Sam looking wondrously at the children’s Chemistry Lab exhibit. As if Sam felt his gaze, he looked up, and smiled sheepishly when he saw Cas.  Sam came over to where Cas and Dean were sitting, and took a seat on a child’s chair that was much too small for him.

Castiel watched Sam take one more longing look at the miniature chem lab, and leaned over to whisper in Sam’s ear. “You are always hungry for learning, Sam Winchester.” Cas took one of Sam’s hands into his own. “I love that about you.”

Sam blushed, and squeezed Castiel’s hand. Clearing his throat, addressed Dean. “What are you drawing, De?”

Dean shrugged, intently moving his crayon across the paper. “Just some stuff, Sammy.”

“Oohhh,” Sam smiled. “Sounds important.”

Dean glared at him, and Sam burst out a laugh at his baby brother’s show of attitude. Dean bit his lip and frowned, trying to figure out how to fold his piece of paper into something resembling an airplane.

“You want some help, De?” Sam swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, remembering a rainy night years ago in a shoddy motel room, when Dean had first taught him all about folding paper airplanes.

“I fowd it wike dis.” Dean folded his colored paper lengthwise once, but then his face scrunched up. “But den I don’t know.”

“Here,” Sam said gently, grabbing his own piece of paper. He quickly drew three stick figures on it, then folded it up slowly so that Dean could watch. “Like this.”

Dean watched Sam’s every move, trying to carefully fold his own paper like Sam’s, though Dean’s ended up with more than a few crumples in it. He held it up in triumph when they were done, and walked over to the pulsed air enclosure to test it out.

“Like this, De.” Sam let his paper airplane fly, watching it glide along the enclosure to gently land a few seconds later amidst a pile of forgotten paper planes.

Dean let his own plane go, but he looked crushed when his own plane dove straight down onto the floor, not flying for even one second due to all its wrinkles. “Oh, no. My pwane no fwy.”

Sam picked up Dean’s paper plane, and tried to smooth it out as best he could. “Here, bud. Try again.”

Dean hesitated, not wanting to see his plane fall again.

Castiel cleared his throat, and looked around. Moving an arm in front of his and Sam’s bodies, he encouraged Dean. “Go on, little one. Try again.”

Dean furrowed his brow and released his plane again, and this time when it looked like it was going to immediately fall, Sam caught the subtle movement of Castiel’s hand. Cas flicked his wrist upwards, then directed his fingers forwards. Sam cleared his throat, but Castiel just looked innocently back at him. Sam shot him a knowing look as they watched Dean’s little paper airplane take flight, soaring high before landing gracefully a good two feet in front of Sam’s.

“Sammy! Wookit my pwane!” Dean shouted excitedly.

“Let children be children, huh angel?” Sam chided, but he smiled at Cas, a warm feeling flooding his chest.

Castiel shrugged innocently. “Our little boy builds a good plane.”

Sam scooped Dean up, listening to him still chattering away about his plane’s epic flight. “That he does.”

 

“Did you have fun today, De?” Sam asked as he tipped Dean’s head back to run water over his sudsy hair.

“Yeah, Sammy! I wike the museum.” Dean rubbed his hands over his wet face. “We go again?”

“Sure, baby.” Sam ran a soapy washcloth up and down Dean’s back. “Whenever you want.” Sam made a silent promise to take Dean out more. The learning and the socialization were both good for him, and Sam needed to do his best while Dean was little.

Sam let Dean play with his bath toys for a little while longer, then pulled the plug on the tub. Absentmindedly thinking that their jacuzzi could use a good cleaning, Sam wrapped Dean in a soft fluffy towel.

“Where is Cas?” Dean asked, as Sam lay him down in bed.

“I’m not sure, baby. Probably downstairs.” Sam handed Dean his stuffed moose, which Dean held tightly to his chest as Sam got him changed for bed. “What do you say you sleep in your own room tonight, De?”

Dean shook his head, scrambling out of Sam’s arms and settling in on Sam’s pillow. “No fank you. I sweep here.” Dean shuffled his feet so they were under the covers.

Sam sighed. Everything he had researched on parenting indicated that letting Dean sleep with him and Cas so often was so not healthy, but it seemed to keep Dean calm. Sam would do anything to give Dean nightmare-free sleep, and besides, when had the Winchesters ever claimed to be normal?

Still though, Sam kind of wished for a night alone in bed with Cas. They had had one such night a week or so ago, when Dean had fallen asleep during a movie and Cas had carried him up to his own bed, and, well, Sam wouldn’t forget that night anytime soon. After being interrupted this morning, Sam kind of hoped they would be able to continue once Dean had fallen asleep.

“You sweep wiv me, Sammy.” Dean instructed. “I tell you again about my pwane.”

Sam tossed off his shirt and quickly brushed his teeth and changed into pajama pants. Crawling into bed next to Dean, he settled in, wrapping his arms around his baby brother. “Okay, Dean. Tell me about your plane.”

 

Hours later, Castiel quietly entered their bedroom, taking a seat on the overstuffed recliner in the corner. At the soft shuffling noise, Sam woke from his light doze.

“Come to bed, angel.” Sam whispered, when Cas didn’t move. Sam sat up, careful not to wake Dean. “Cas?”

“The voices over angel radio earlier; it was Gabriel channeling me.” Cas said after a moment. He picked up Dean’s stuffed moose where it had fallen off the bed and settled it back next to Dean. “She is back.”

Sam’s heart pounded. “She. You mean the witch.”

Even in the dim, moonlit room, Sam caught Castiel’s nod. “I thought it best to remain vigilant, just in case.” Castiel ran a hand over Dean’s hair. “It seems his nightmares worsen when she is near.” He looked up. “I do not wish to worry you, Sam.”

Sam tightened his hold on Dean. “Mission failed.”

Castiel sighed.  “She cannot get through the house. Even if she could,” Castiel’s gorgeous eyes turned to mere slits. “She cannot get through me.”

Sam fingered his bracelet, and forced himself to relax. He looked down at Dean sleeping peacefully, his face smooth and unworried, his tiny chest rising and falling in sleep.

Sam took one more long look at Cas, and then did his best to settle in and do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed Benny's character here, because I adore Benny. Not canon, just using his character to suit my needs.  
> Thanks for reading, lovelies!


	25. Chapter 25

The first of April dawned much warmer than normal, bringing a hint of summer and some hot Kansas sunshine to lighten up the day following Sam’s rough night. Even with Cas watching out, Sam hadn’t gotten much sleep, too concerned over Castiel’s dim report from Gabriel.

“Tell me again what he said,” Sam ordered that morning over breakfast, trying to feed Dean some fruit even though his little boy was much more interested in having an arm wrestling competition with Moose.

“Aw, dang.” Dean muttered. “Best two out of fwee,” he challenged Moose, absently taking the small piece of banana Sam was trying to get into his mouth.

Castiel sighed, and rose from the table, refilling Sam’s coffee cup. “I’ve told you six times, love.”

“Tell me again.” Sam wanted to be sure he had it right. He needed to know just what kind of threat they were up against. He scowled when Dean turned his chin away from his food, much more interested in the conversation he was having with Moose.

Cas took the mangled banana from Sam’s tense fingers, easily getting Dean to finish it in just three bites. Dean jumped off his chair to run around with Moose, so Castiel gave Sam his full attention and relayed Gabriel’s message once more, while gently massaging the fatigue from Sam’s shoulders.

“The witch that cursed Dean is not far from Kansas. There have been reports of unusual behaviors and sightings in Nebraska and Missouri. Heavy storms, unusual crop circles. Gabe says she is getting closer, but has since settled down.” Castiel dug his fingers into the knotted muscles in Sam’s neck, and his lips turned up in pleasure at Sam’s almost inaudible moan.  

Sam’s head tipped back to rest against Castiel’s stomach. “Why is she here, Cas. What the hell does she want with our baby,” he questioned, though his eyes fell closed at Castiel’s ministrations. 

“I get the impression that her intention is more fear and unrest than actual danger, Sam.” Castiel bent low, pressing his cheek to Sam’s. “And it pains me to see that it’s working.” His hands slid from Sam’s neck down to his biceps, giving them a squeeze before clearing the breakfast dishes.

Sam sighed, then rose and came up behind Castiel, wrapping his arms around his angel’s waist and pressing his lips to Castiel’s skin, just below his ear. “I can’t lose him, Cas.”

Cas turned in Sam’s arms. “We won’t, love.” He fidgeted, a bit uncharacteristically, and untangled himself from Sam’s embrace.

Sam frowned. “Cas?”

“Sammy!” Dean ran into the kitchen, sliding across the tiled floor to crash into Sam’s legs. He looked up at Sam with his big green eyes. “Pway cars wiv me?” Dean held up two handfuls of mini toy cars for Sam’s inspection.

Sam gripped Dean underneath his armpits and lifted him high. “Sure thing, baby boy. Right after we both get dressed.” Dean had flung his pajama tee off in the middle of the night, claiming to be too hot sleeping in between Sam and Cas. Sam hadn’t even put a shirt on that morning, due to the warmth outside and Dean’s urgency to get out of bed and get downstairs. “Moose is very hungwy, Sammy,” Dean had informed him upon waking.

“No, Sammy.” Dean beamed at him. “Cars!”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny how much he loved holding his baby brother so close, skin to skin. He turned back to Cas. “There’s something you’re not telling me, angel. And I will find out what it is.”

Cas shooed them both out of the kitchen, and Sam let Dean tumble from his arms to race into the living room to wait for Sam to play.

 

“It’s so gorgeous out, Cas.” Sam said, a few hours later. Sunlight streamed into the living room, warming it up with its liquid gold shine. “I should set up the sprinkler and let Dean play outside.”

“Sprinkwer!” Dean jumped up, his half-eaten lunch forgotten at the prospect of playing outside in his swimsuit.

Sam laughed. “Let me go out and see if it’s warm enough, De.”

“I’ll come wiv you, Sammy.” Dean said seriously, taking Sam’s hand.

“One sec, baby. I’ve gotta go grab a-“

“I’ll get you a shirt, love.” Cas disappeared upstairs. Sam’s smile lingered in the air after him, and he shook his head to clear the freaking stars from his eyes as he headed outside with Dean.

Sam practically purred when the hot Kansas sun hit his bare skin. He wanted to curl like a cat into its warmth, and had to force himself to keep a tight hold on Dean’s hand even as his entire body wanted to relax beneath the sun. Oh yeah, definitely warm enough for the sprinkler.

“Sammy!” Dean tugged on his hand. “Puppy!” Sam looked in the direction Dean was pointing. “And Car-wee!” Dean said excitedly.

Sam held a hand over his eyes against the morning glare, and spotted a little girl and a ginormous black and brown dog headed their way, followed by a scruffy-faced man in trendy sunglasses.

“Benny!” Sam said in surprise, greeting the man from the museum.

“Hey there, brother.” Benny shook Sam’s hand. “Looks like we’re neighbors. Say hi to Sam, Babygirl.” Benny placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

Carly Jane tipped her blonde head up to Sam. “Hi,” she said shyly.

“Hey, sweetheart. Dean was pretty excited to see you!” Sam gave her a soft smile, and nodded at Dean. The two kids started chasing each other around the yard, the huge dog circling after them. “Is your dog-“

“Jenks is a fluff puff,” Benny drawled, anticipating Sam’s question. “Wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it landed a hand on our Carly Jane.”

Sam nodded in approval. He turned when he heard Cas come up behind him, taking the tee shirt Cas offered with a grateful smile. “Cas, you remember Benny. From the museum.”

 _I think he checks out,_ Sam pushed at Castiel. _But maybe a test wouldn’t hurt?_

Sam wanted to kiss his angel smack on the lips when Castiel quickly offered Benny a hand. “Nice to see you again,” Cas said amicably, holding Benny’s hand a bit longer than socially acceptable.

Sam had his instincts affirmed when, after a moment, Castiel gave Benny a genuine smile. “Please forgive my brusqueness at the museum.” He wrapped an arm possessively around Sam’s waist, two long fingers reaching out to stroke Sam’s bracelet. Cas delighted in the shiver he felt go through Sam, but didn’t miss a beat as he finished explaining to Benny, “We’ve had some long stressful days, settling in. But that’s no excuse to be less than friendly.” He tipped his head towards the children. “Dean certainly could use a friend.”

Benny’s smile was its own sunbeam, a mesmerizing blend of languidness and genuine shine. “No worries, no worries at all. We live just down the street from y’all.” Benny called Jenks back to his side, the dog coming over with no hesitation. “Carly Jane ain’t too rich in the friend department either right now. Seems not having a mama ain’t too popular ‘round here.”

Castiel squeezed Sam’s fingers. “I need to go lay out Dean’s change of clothes. Sam was going to set up our sprinkler so that Dean could enjoy the summer-like weather. Perhaps your daughter would like to join him?”

Benny nodded. “That would be very kind, thank you.”

Cas disappeared inside, and Sam turned back towards Benny. “Of course, you would be welcome to stay around. We can set up some chairs, a cooler of beer.”

“Right on, brother. I’ll go get Carly Jane changed.” Benny called out to his daughter, and they disappeared around the corner row of houses with a promise to be back soon.

 

“So,” Benny said after he had opened a couple of cold beers and handed one to Cas- though the bottle hanging from Castiel’s hand was mostly for show. “How long you and your man been out of the hunt?”

Cas took a sip and immediately sputtered, the beer going down wrong as he had to swallow hard to make up for his reaction. “I beg your pardon?” It was his impression that most humans had no inkling of the existence of the supernatural world.

Benny casually watched Dean and Carly Jane jump through the cool, sparkling water of the sprinkler, being chased by Sam and Jenks. “You’ve got the look, brother. Carly Jane’s mama was a hunter. Damn good one, too. I can spot ‘em a mile away.”

Castiel straightened in his chair, wondering how in the world he could feel so taken aback by the question, yet so relaxed around someone he had just met. Was this normal for humans? “A few months.” _Six and a half,_ his mind reminded him. _Since Dean turned._

Benny nodded. “Must be tough.”

Castiel had often wondered, if it _was_ tough for Sam, to be out of the hunt so long. Sam was so good with Dean, always holding his brother close, seeming to be on cloud nine being able to parent his little boy…honestly, Castiel thought Sam was so good with this tiny version of Dean, that no, Castiel hadn’t stopped to think that maybe Sam missed hunting. Sure, he knew Sam stumbled a bit with parenting techniques, they both did, but even at his most stressed, Castiel had never seen Sam happier than when he was cuddling and laughing with his baby boy.

Castiel had gotten to know Sam so much better these last several months, on a deeper level than he had ever thought possible when Dean was, well, Dean. Castiel now felt things for Sam Winchester that he never in a million years would have thought he would feel for a human, much less the younger Winchester. But somehow, it fit.

They fit.

Castiel was struck with a sudden need to speak the truth out loud, and somehow, sitting here with this Benny LaFitte, he felt he could. “It is…different. But it is not as hard as I thought it would be.” Castiel could admit to himself, holding a cold beer, watching his family, conversing with another human male in the most basic of ways, that maybe he wasn’t talking about hunting.

Benny studied him for a moment, then raised his beer in what Castiel figured to be a salute. “I get you, brother.”

And strangely enough, Castiel thought he really did.

“Castell!” Dean ran up to him, breaking him from his musings, water droplets still clinging to his eyelashes. “I chase Car-wee and nen she chase me and nen Sammy get bofe of us and we wan and pwayed and now I’m all wet!” Dean shook his head violently, spraying water droplets all over Cas, making the angel smile at what his little boy was sharing with him. “Castell!” Dean smacked his little hands playfully against Castiel’s cheeks. “You come wun wiv us! You get wet!”

So, evil witch forgotten, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, stripped off his shirt and ran through the sprinkler with his lover and his little boy, their neighbor from down the street, and wondered how in Father’s name he had gotten so lucky as to wander upon, and become a part of, his family Winchester.


	26. Chapter 26

“Car-wee is fun,” Dean informed Castiel during bath time, later that night. Sam had run out to grab dinner, so Castiel had bargained with Dean- early bath meant time for a movie after dinner. “And Mister Benny is big, wike a big bear but I wike him too.” Dean zoomed his speedboat around the bath bubbles, making motor noises with his lips.

Castiel wiped his forehead with his sleeve, his vessel emitting sweat from leaning over the warm bath. How Dean wasn’t dead on his little feet by now Cas had no idea. After running around with Sam, Dean, Carly Jane and Jenks through the sprinkler, and no nap, Castiel couldn’t believe Dean was still as energetic as when he had woken up this morning.

As for Castiel, he was ready to curl himself around Sam in their generous bed, falling asleep to the familiar smell, feel, and taste of Sam.

“And nen Jenks almost wan me over, but den he wicked my face so I know it was an assident.” Dean continued.  He frowned. “And nen Sammy shut the sprinkwer off. But me an’ Car-wee still pway anyway.” Dean scrunched up his nose. “Until you bwing me inside and make me take a baff.” He jumped his speedboat up onto the soapdish.

“Hmm,” Castiel agreed, tipping Dean’s head back to wash his hair. “You are a very good friend to Carly Jane, little one. I am proud of you.”

Dean didn’t say anything to that, just wiped suds off of his eyes and nose- Castiel wasn’t quite as good at this as Sam- but Castiel picked up on the change in Dean’s energy, and knew his little boy had heard him.

They both looked at each other and grinned when they heard the front door slam, and Dean’s excited shout rang in Castiel’s ears. “SAMMY!” Dean scrambled to get out of the tub, but Castiel gently held him back. “Not so fast, little one. I still need to rinse you off.”  Castiel hurriedly finished cleaning a squirming Dean, then wrapped him in a towel and some soft pajamas before they headed downstairs to meet Sam for dinner.

 

“And finally, he falls,” Sam stated just one hour later, looking at a sleeping Dean.

Sam and Cas were settled on the couch, having just started a movie, as promised. Not ten minutes in, however, and Dean had wormed his way onto Castiel’s lap and was now sound asleep against his angel’s chest, two fingers stuck in his mouth where it was smushed against Castiel’s shoulder.

Cas rubbed Dean’s back. “He had a very full day.”

“He did.” Sam reached over and ran a soft hand over Dean’s hair before standing up and holding out his arms. “I’ll take him up.”

“I wonder if he is deep enough into slumber that he might last the whole night in his own room,” Castiel hinted as he handed Dean off, looking at Sam with unspoken promise.

Sam’s breath hitched at the heat in Castiel’s gaze as he leaned down to take Dean without waking him. When Sam straightened without a noise from their baby boy, he winked at Cas. “Looks like he is.”

Castiel rose from the couch, pressing a kiss first to Dean’s temple, then the corner of Sam’s mouth. “I’ll be up in a minute,” he said, his gravelly voice rumbling right through Sam’s veins.

“Sooner the better, angel.”  Sam whispered as he carried Dean upstairs.

 

The earsplitting crack of thunder sounded just as Sam reached his climax, Castiel shuddering behind him as he collapsed, spent, on top of Sam. Sam scooted to the side of the mess he had made on their sheets, swiftly turning around with the only ounce of strength he had left to lie on his back, encircling Cas in his strong arms so his angel could lie atop Sam’s, albeit sweaty, chest.

Lightening lit up the room, its white light so bright that for a moment Sam could see right into Castiel’s baby blues. “You’re a quick study, angel.” Sam kept one hand on Castiel’s hip and draped his other arm over his forehead. “Gonna kill me.”

“Never,” Castiel vowed, his lips sliding along Sam’s collarbone. He absorbed Sam’s involuntary shudder at the next crack of thunder, and cupped Sam’s face in his hand. “Hey.” Castiel inquired softly, not used to seeing either of his Winchester’s show fear.

“Sorry,” Sam said quietly, more than a little embarrassed at his reaction. “I guess I’m a little jumpy after what you said the other night. About _her_ being here.” Sam admitted, referring to the witch. Although grateful for their night alone in bed, Sam was feeling like Dean’s room was just a little too far away.

“Would you like me to check on him?” Castiel asked, reading Sam’s mind.

Sam shook his head. “I know he’s fine. I’m just…” Sam’s hand skimmed along Castiel’s back. “Cas?”

“Yes, love.” Castiel settled back onto Sam’s chest.

Sam was silent for a moment, staring blankly at the rhythmic spinning of the ceiling fan, letting it and the feel of his fingers gliding along Castiel’s skin keep him calm. But he had to know. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Castiel, too, dragged out the silence, before sliding off of Sam and to the side. “Sam-“

“She’s close, Cas.” Another crack of thunder and several flashes of lightning punctuated Sam’s statement, and he dug his fingers into a tighter hold on his angel. “Gabriel told you as much. And I think he told you something else.” Sam turned onto his side, facing Cas. “What is it.”

Castiel mirrored Sam’s position, reaching out to take Sam’s hand in his. Running his fingers over the bracelet he had given Sam, Castiel looked Sam in the eye. “She is close. And I do think she is on her way,” he said honestly.

Sam nodded, his expression open, signaling to Cas to continue.

“And I-“ Castiel was cut short by a blood-curling scream.

“ _Dean_.” Sam shot out of bed, Castiel not a second behind him.  Sam burst through Dean’s doorway, rushing to his baby brother’s bedside.

“Sammmeeeee!” A ragged sob ripped from Dean as Sam got close. “Sammy!” Dean was standing up in bed, his arms reached upwards, tear tracks staining his cheeks. “SAMMY!”

“I’m here, baby. Shh, it’s okay. Sammy’s here.” Sam scooped Dean up into his arms and cradled him tightly to his chest. “Shh, Dean. It’s alright, baby. You’re alright.”

Another scream tore from Dean’s throat, followed by hiccupping cries. The next giant boom of thunder only amplified Dean’s fear and he clutched tighter to Sam, pinching Sam’s skin where he was holding on for dear life.

Castiel helped Sam step hastily into a pair of sweats and ran a hand over Dean’s back, murmuring soothingly as he did so. He shepherded the brothers back into his and Sam’s room, gently pushing Sam to sit on the bed, Dean clasped tightly to his chest. Sam rocked back and forth, doing his best to calm Dean as he prayed this night wouldn’t be like the endless torrent of pain they had endured back in their hotel room all those months ago.

Dean sobbed into Sam’s shoulder, and Sam held him tighter. “Cas.” Sam said sharply, looking up at their angel. “Is this her?”

Cas looked helplessly back at Sam. “I do not know. I honestly do not know.”

 

Dean had calmed around three in the morning, after lots of soothing walks around the bedroom and a litany of Castiel’s lulling cadence of “You are safe, Dean. It is alright. Sammy and I are here, yes we are, and we love you. You are safe,” on repeat for the better part of the last hour.

Nestled in between Sam and Castiel on their soft king bed, Dean had finally drifted off to sleep around four am, Sam’s arms tight and secure around him and Castiel’s low, singing him near his ear.

Sharing a glance that was half relief, half worry, Sam and Castiel fell asleep as well, fingers twined tightly over Dean’s heart.

 

The next morning dawned sunny and cool, the turmoil of the night before having been washed away with the storm.

It was quiet in the house, however, the brothers lacking the enthusiasm to be outside like they had the previous day.  Sam made coffee while Cas helped Dean get dressed.

Dean couldn’t quite wrangle his tee shirt over his head, his little arms pushed through the sleeves  but his head stuck just sideways of the neck opening. “Hewp! I’m stuck. Castell!”

Castiel chuckled, gently pulling the shirt down. “You almost had it, little one.” He buttoned up Dean’s jeans and held up two pairs of shoes. “Sneakers, or boots today?”

Dean shook his head. “No, Castell. No shoes.”

Castiel frowned, but lowered his arms. “Okay. I suppose you do not need shoes to eat breakfast.” He held out a hand to Dean, but his little boy shook his head and lifted his arms.

Indulgently lifting him up and settling Dean on his hip, Castiel couldn’t resist cuddling Dean to his chest for a quick moment before heading downstairs to join Sam.

 

“What do you want to do today, De?” Sam cleared their breakfast dishes, Dean clinging to his leg like a limpet. As Sam shuffled around the kitchen Dean just held on, both arms and legs wrapped around Sam’s leg while fisting Moose in one hand.

“I donno, Sammy.” Dean looked way, way up at him, but Sam could still see the need in his baby brother’s eyes. “Don’t weave me. Wanna stay wiv you.”

“Oh, baby.” Sam dried his hands and scooped Dean up, rubbing his nose against Dean’s tummy to make him giggle. “Never gonna leave you.” He shot a worried glance at Castiel, who just gave him a small smile. “Hey,” Sam said, knowing that all three of them needed to lighten the mood after the long night before. He looked at Dean with a devilish grin. “Wanna get messy?”

 

“Dis is the best, Sammy!” Dean yelled excitedly, his fingers wet and messy with paint. He knelt on the two pillows that Castiel has used to pad his chair and give him some extra height, bent over his future masterpiece.

Sam and Cas had cleared the kitchen table, lined it with newspapers, and thanks to a little bit of angel magic, had set out small paint pots filled with every color of the rainbow. Sam tore off sheet upon sheet of smooth, blank paper, and they had gone to work.

Sam snapped a few pictures on his phone, wanting to capture the huge grin on Dean’s face as he painted.

“You paint too, Sammy.” Dean ordered. “And Castell. You make pit-chers.” Dean dipped his whole hand into a pot of red paint and slapped it on a piece of paper, which he then handed to Sam. “Dis one fo’ you, Sammy.”

“I love it,” Sam declared, even as he winced at the paint splatters that now coated the kitchen. He grabbed a piece of paper and dug into some blue paint. “Alright, let’s do this.” He sought out his angel, looking at Cas from beneath the bangs that had fallen into his eyes. “You too, angel.”

Castiel, still looking a bit unsure, tentatively dipped his fingertips into some yellow paint. He made a faint mark on his paper, barely dragging his fingers across its surface.

“No, Castell.” Dean shook his head. “Wike dis.” Dean wrapped both of his tiny hands around Castiel’s large one, dipped it back into the yellow, then helped Castiel swirl his hands across his paper. “You need to weally paint.”

Sam grinned at the expression on Castiel’s face, then laughed when Dean and Cas looked at each other, matching smiles on their faces.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said when Dean offered his fingerprints as part of Castiel’s blooming design.

“I dwaw wainbow, and wace car, and impala…” Dean slapped a splash of black paint onto his paper, with four little spots of grey underneath, pursing his lips and making engine noises. Then he continued to babble.  “And impala wheels, and Sammy, and Dean, and pie, and…”  Sam and Cas listened to their little boy’s chatter as they all painted away the morning.

As they were wrapping up, Dean was drawing a light brown vertical rectangle, with some black on the bottom and white on top. He dipped his fingers into the blue paint and dragged a thin strip down the middle of it all, and then put two black specks on the bottom and a mushy black dot on top. He dipped his pinkies into the blue paint and made two tiny blue dots under the black spot.  

“What are you drawing, De?” Sam had wiped off his hands and was now hanging their pictures up to dry.

Dean hummed, but didn’t really answer, as he dipped both of his hands back in black. Then, in a sweeping motion, he ran both inky black hands outwards from the middle of his design, the outer lines blurring as the paint seeped from his fingers. He sat back on his heels, looking very proud of his latest masterpiece. “I dwaw Castell,” Dean explained. “And nen…” Dean’s brow furrowed, as if he were unsure, but then he nodded. “Nen I dwaw his-“

“Wings,” Cas whispered, his blue eyes full of moisture. He looked up at Sam. “He drew my wings.”

Sam swallowed, hard, and looked at Dean, who was now shrinking back against Castiel’s chest, wiggling into his angel, just to be close. “That,” Sam said honestly, “is the best picture I have ever seen.”

Castiel swept Dean up into his arms, messy hands and all. “Thank you for drawing me, Dean.” Castiel looked at the pictures sprawled out on the table, and the ones Sam had hung up, noticing a common theme in Dean’s pictures- himself, Sam, their little Dean, the impala, and in a few, an adorably sloppy rendition of the house they now all shared. “You are the best artist on earth.”

“I dwaw my famwee,” Dean said proudly.

“Yes, little one.” Castiel kissed Dean on the cheek. “You sure did.”


	27. Chapter 27

After a quick lunch, Dean was happily playing with his toy cars, settled on the living room floor in between Sam’s legs with Sam’s arms loosely surrounding him. Being messy from all the painting, Sam had tried to give Dean a bath but had ended up just letting Dean shower with him, his little boy still reluctant to be any more than a foot away from Sam at all times.

“Drink your juice, little one.” Castiel lowered the apple juice filled sippy cup down to where Dean could reach it. Cas ruffled Dean’s hair when his little boy took it without argument, settling back against Sam’s lap to drink.

Sam and Cas exchanged quick looks when the doorbell rang, Cas holding out a staying hand to Sam. “If it is Benny, I will tell him we don’t quite feel up to playing today,” Castiel said, signaling to Sam to stay put with Dean.

Sam nodded gratefully, giving Dean a squeeze and kissing the top of his baby brother’s head. “Aw, De.” Sam jumped backwards when half of Dean’s juice ended up all over the front of Sam’s shirt. He looked at Dean, who was holding his sippy cup in one hand and the lid in the other.

“I’m sowwee, Sammy. I wanted to see what it wooked wike.”

“Dammit.” Sam stripped off his wet shirt, tossing it aside as he rose. He paused, taking in his angel still standing in the empty open doorway. “Cas? Who is it?”

Castiel turned, closing the door behind him. “No one.” He held a small, brown package to Sam. Castiel shook his head _; humans and their internet, always ordering online in favor of traveling to a physical store_. And no one knew the workings of the internet better than his Sam.

Sam shrugged. “I didn’t order anything.”

Castiel frowned. “Then what…”

“Maybe I did, I don’t know. There are some awesome kid’s toys out nowadays, Cas.” Sam had been so preoccupied lately that it wouldn’t be terribly surprising if he had ordered something new for Dean and forgotten about it. Leaning to one side, he fished his pocket knife out of his jeans and tossed it to Cas, then picked his shirt back up to start wiping juice off of Dean’s chin.

And then, three things happened at once, almost in slow motion. The sound of Castiel sliding the blade through the package’s wrapping echoed through the house with a cracking sound louder than the thunder the night before.  As soon as the seal had broken, bursts of sharp green sparks shot upwards from the box, shrill whistles piercing each burst like cartons of fireworks. Castiel yelled Sam’s name in warning as he threw his arms up to protect his face, and Sam grabbed Dean, his little boy seemingly in a daze, stumbling towards and wanting to peer curiously into the box. Sam’s arms quickly coiled around Dean, Sam holding him tightly to his chest, shielding Dean from the burning spray with his body.

A frightful howling sound wound its way through their house, past the kitchen, up the stairs, hitting every room before swirling back in on itself to pulse back to its box amidst the continuing shower of burning green flames shooting from the small package. Sam hunched protectively over his baby brother, his naked back completely exposed to the firework display of green sparks now shooting from the cursed box’s core.

Sam grit his teeth against the scorching of his skin as the burning embers showered his entire back. He folded himself that much more over Dean so that not one spark would touch his baby brother’s body. His back burning like a bonfire, Sam risked a slight, backwards glance towards the source of the cursed fireworks show, and squeezed his eyes shut against the cool, blue glow now jetting from Castiel’s palm, countering the evil spell.

Just as soon as the burning sparks and awful noise had started, they were abruptly shut off. Sam kept his eyes shut except to squint down at Dean, who was shaking with fear in Sam’s arms but otherwise appeared unharmed. Sam let out a gasp of pain and heard a sudden, short puffing noise, followed by Castiel’s gravelly voice.

“Sam.” His angel rushed over, placing a hand first on Sam’s arm then on Dean’s. Sam knew the moment Castiel’s blue eyes hit his back. “Oh, Sam.”

“M’okay, Cas.” Sam wasn’t. His back burned like hellfire, but Dean was still shaking in his arms, unharmed but still terrified, so Sam couldn’t quite make himself let go of Dean. “That was…what the hell was that?”

Castiel gently pried Dean from Sam’s arms. Their little boy instantly latched onto Castiel’s body, and with his arms now free, Sam had nothing to concentrate on besides the burning pain that was scorching his entire back.

Cupping a hand to the back of Dean’s head, Castiel looked at Sam. “It was her,” he answered simply. His eyes filled with worry. “Your back. Let me see.”

Sam turned, gingerly, every movement pulling at the seared skin. He let out another pained gasp as he straightened.

“Oh, Sam,” Castiel whispered again, Dean’s face tucked against his shoulder.

Three seconds later, seeing that Dean was safe in their angel’s arms, Sam manfully passed out.

\---------

Skating rinks. Glaciers. Magnificent ice sculptures, icy blue, cool and dripping in their magnificent frozen state. A popsicle on a steamy, humid summer day. A cold beer after a long, sweaty hunt.  An ice pack on one monster of a bruise.

“Mmm,” Sam hummed in relief. All of these cooling sensations were soothing his burned skin, and he felt his body temperature lowering, his back cooling, like that time when he was seven and Dean slathered on layer upon layer of aloe vera after Sam had gotten burned after a whole day at the park.

Though his eyes were only half open, Sam didn’t miss the cool, blue glow surrounding his body where it lay nestled against soft sheets and pillows. “Cas.” A tiny body wiggled against his side, and Sam instinctively wound an arm around Dean, pulling him close.

“Hmm.” Heavenly cool hands skated across Sam’s back, and he closed his eyes once more at the pleasure and relief of it all.

Sam could have stayed in bed all day, lying prone to Castiel’s soothing ministrations, Dean tucked up close and safe by his side. But he had to know. He rose up onto his elbows, turning his head back and to the side to try and make eye contact with his angel. “Cas. What the hell.”

Castiel sighed, ceasing his ice therapy on Sam’s now healed, though still freshly pink, skin. “The witch, she…” Castiel reluctantly met Sam’s hazel gaze. “I fear she found quite the way to reach us.”

Sam twisted around, noticing the button on his jeans had been undone to allow better access to his burned back. He ignored his state of half undress and sat up fully, gathering Dean into his lap to sit between his legs. “She’s dead,” Sam vowed. “Swear to God, Cas, I am gonna gank that bitch once and for all. She is done terrorizing my family.” He reached for Castiel’s hand, and was taken by surprise when the angel pulled away.

Castiel looked increasingly uncomfortable, and instead of supporting Sam’s declaration, he merely gazed out the window. “You were correct, Sam.”

Sam had no idea what Cas meant. “Cas?”

Castiel turned, and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped a hand around Dean’s face, then looked pleadingly at Sam. “My apologies, Sam. I just…I just didn’t want to upset you…”

Sam wrapped a hand around Castiel’s wrist, his bracelet catching on Castiel’s fingers. Dean sucked on two fingers, leaning into Sam’s chest as he watched his parents wrestle in their silent communication.

Castiel let out an exceedingly human sigh. “You were correct, when you said that you thought Gabriel had told me something that I was not telling you.”

Sam shifted, pulling Dean in close. “Okay.”

Castiel looked down at their clasped hands. When he looked back up at Sam, his ocean eyes blazed with anger. “I want to end her as badly as you do. Watching you get hurt, being unable to stop it…I want her gone too, Sam.”

“But?” Sam questioned, seeing the hesitation in his angel’s eyes.

Castiel let out another heavy sigh. “When Gabriel channeled me, to tell me she was close. He didn’t just warn me about what she could do, he told me we would have to kill her if we ever wanted to be completely rid of her.” Castiel’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure he is entirely convinced of her ‘my sisters and I are good witches’ story.”

“That makes two of us,” Sam muttered. “Okay, great. So like I said, she’s done. I’ll waste her and be done with it.”

“That’s not all, Sam.” Castiel squeezed Sam’s hand. “I agree, and I will go with you to end her life. But you should know…” Castiel looked back out the window, unable to keep Sam’s gaze.

Sam grew impatient. “Just tell me, Cas.”

Cas finally spoke. “To kill her is to lose our little boy.”  

Sam drew in a sharp breath. “You mean…” He looked down at Dean, who had fallen asleep during their exchange.

Castiel nodded sadly. “We kill her, and the spell is broken. Dean will be big once again.”

 

As they all three lay in bed later that night, Castiel’s arms wrapped around Sam, and Sam’s arms wrapped around Dean, Sam spoke softly into the night. “We still have to do it, Cas.” Sam knew Dean couldn’t stay little forever, but his heart split painfully in two with just the thought of never again holding this little boy in his arms.

Castiel nodded against his shoulder. “I agree, Sam. It is what’s best, for Dean. He deserves control over his own life.” He squeezed his arms tightly around Sam, his fingers brushing Dean’s cheek.

Sam nodded, swallowing hard against the lump that was forming in his throat. “I want my big brother back,” he admitted. Sam kissed his baby boy’s temple. “But I don’t want to let him go yet.”

Castiel hugged Sam tight. “We have time, love. Rest, now. We can figure it out in the morning.”

Sam nodded as he cuddled Dean closer. Weaving his fingers through Castiel’s, Sam Winchester fell asleep safe in the arms of his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me, my lovelies. I promise, there is still more Little Dean fluff to come


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini golf, ice cream, and bedtime stories. Our little family, enjoying nothing but fluff.
> 
> ***the jumbled paragraph format errors that occurred when uploading have been fixed***

Sam woke to tiny fingers poking his ribs. “Sammy.”

“Mmm,” Sam mumbled. He cuddled Dean closer, and Dean giggled when Sam inadvertently squeezed his tummy.

“Sammy!” Dean laugh whispered.  “Wake up. Castell seeping.”

Sam groggily turned over, not quite sure what one of those things had to do with the other. He nudged Castiel awake, because shockingly, his sometimes clueless angel made the best coffee Sam had ever tasted, and Sam was hoping to persuade Castiel down to the kitchen. “Cas.” Sam bumped his angel a few times with one elbow, his other arm palming the night stand for his phone.

“Sammy Cas, Sammy Cas, Sammy Cas!” Dean jumped between them on the bed, plopping down onto his butt with a smile on his face.

Castiel snaked an arm around Dean, pulling him to lie in between the two adults. “You make far too much noise for someone just awaking, little one.”

Sam grinned, throwing an arm behind his head, checking the weather on his phone. “And you’ve gotten far too used to the idea of real sleep, angel,” he teased Cas. Looked like it would be another sunny, gorgeous day today.

Castiel lifted his head up, his arm still around baby Dean, and looked sultrily at Sam. “I can’t help it, love, that you make the bed so inviting.” Cas found Sam’s fingers, wrapping his own around them and stroking Sam’s bracelet. “And who knows how long our little boy will be so willing to cuddle.”

Sam caught Castiel’s gaze, a quiet but intense moment sharing between them. Sam laid back down on his back and wrapped an arm around Dean.  Shaking off the melancholy that Castiel’s words had momentarily brought on, Sam smiled again. Maybe he couldn’t keep living in this moment forever, but he could capture the image. He held his phone out with one arm and turned the camera view around, so that it captured all three of their sleepy, smiling faces. “Say cheese, Dean!”

 

After breakfast and a quick local search on his phone, Sam piled them into the car and they headed to a pirate-themed miniature golf course outside of town.  Dean kicked his legs against his car seat and flew Moose around, oblivious to the conversation going on up front.  “We never got to do stuff like this growing up,” Sam explained quietly to Cas, keeping his eyes on the road. “I thought it might be nice to, uh.” Sam rubbed his neck while stopped at the red light, suddenly uncomfortable.

Cas lay a hand on Sam’s thigh. “To give him this while he’s young.”

Sam shrugged, and took a left turn into the parking lot of the mini golf course. “Actually, my big brother is kind of a dork. He’d probably love this at any age.” Sam chuckled to himself.

But for now, it was Sam’s turn to be the big brother. Sam winked at Cas, refusing to let melancholy rule their day, and reached into the backseat to unbuckle Dean. “Ready to play mini golf, De?”

“Weady, Sammy!” Dean eagerly reached his arms up to be let out, and held Sam’s hand the moment Sam set him down. He dragged his parents across the parking lot to the wooden welcome shack, decorated with fake green turf, golf clubs and balls of all sizes and colors, and a life-sized pirate on the side, complete with an eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder. Next to the golf course was a tiny café, and behind that was a small park, with several large oak trees, a picnic area, and a lake.  Figuring they could easily spend all day here, Sam was glad he had remembered sunscreen for Dean’s little freckled nose.

As they walked up to the mini golf entrance, Dean’s eyes widened at all the color choices on the counter in front of him. "I gonna get a gween ball!” Dean exclaimed. “No, a wed one. No, a yewwow one!”

Sm tossed Cas his wallet so the angel could pay for their games, and hoisted Dean up onto the counter. Dean made a decision and grabbed his ball. “Gween.” He grinned at Cas when their angel joined them, holding three clubs. Dean curled his fingers around two more balls, almost unable to hold them in his tiny hand, and held them out to Sam and Cas. “Wed for Sammy, and bwue for Cas.”

“Alright, De, good choices!” Sam helped Dean hop off the counter.

Dean looked over towards the first hole, where a little boy and girl were already starting the game with their parents. Eager to get started, Dean bounced on his feet. “Ima beat you, Sammy. My gween ball gonna win.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam gave Dean a squeeze before leading him around the course. “You’re on, baby boy.”

 

After a lot of creative scoring, Dean’s excited shouting every time he hit his ball farther than Sam’s, and some swear words from Cas that Sam had never heard his angel use before, Sam declared a three way tie and bought them all ice cream.

Sam led his family to the cluster of picnic benches behind the mini golf course, overlooking a small lake. Picking one that was protected by the shade from a huge oak tree, Sam sat Dean on top of the table and straddled the bench below him.

“An’ I hit my ball weawwy high, and nen Castell did too but his ball went into the water and nen Castell fwow his cwub into the water too!” Dean recounted excitedly, chocolate ice cream smearing his face as he messily ate his cone.

Castiel scowled. “I did not throw my club into the water, young man. I simply swung too hard, and it flew from my hand.” He dipped his spoon into Sam’s double mint chocolate chip and cookie dough.

Sam burst out laughing. “Who knew angel strength would be such an inconvenience.” Castiel scowled again, and Sam leaned over to press a quick kiss to the side of his angel’s mouth, lapping up a drip of cookie dough ice cream as he did so. “Relax, angel. We’re just teasing.”

“Castell wook funny!” Dean giggled again. He held out his chocolate ice cream cone to Cas. “You want to share my ice cweam, Castell?”

And just like their iced dessert in the warm summer sun, Castiel melted. “No thank you, little one. I shall continue to steal your brother’s.”

Sam yanked Castiel against him for another kiss, then sat back to enjoy the sun, his shared sundae, and his family.

 

“Not too close to the water, De!” Sam called out, watching his baby boy play on the edge of the lake. Ice cream dishes long finished, Castiel sat atop the table, his feet on the bench, while Sam sat below him on the bench seat, casually reclined against Castiel’s strong, denim clad legs. They traded watching Dean, lazily interlocking fingers and chasing each other for soft kisses while Dean looked for ‘buried treasure’. “It’s a piwate course, Sammy,” Dean had explained impatiently. “Piwates always have tweasure.”  So Sam had let him explore while he smooched on his angel.

“Sammy!”

Sam sighed, but smiled against Castiel’s mouth. Looked like smooching time was over.

“Sammy!” Dean shouted. “I found a snake!”

Sam’s eyes widened and he shot up, all kinds of possible witchcraft jinxes and sneaky spells running through his mind. He jogged over to Dean before he could pick up the mentioned reptile. Discovering merely a harmless water snake, Sam still led Dean away from the shore.  “Come on, De.” Sam held out a hand and Dean took it easily, stomping around the grassy water bank, trying to fit his small shoe prints in the tracks of Sam’s larger ones.

“Hey, De.” Sam pointed to two oak trees standing mere feet apart, about fifty yards in the distance. He looked down at Dean. “Race ya,” Sam challenged.

Dean’s face lit up. “Okay!”

 

Castiel watched his Winchesters race across the lush, grassy field, heading straight for the two oak trees that he knew were decades older than his boys. He smiled when Sam reached down and snatched Dean, grinning at Dean’s giggles as Sam perched him high atop his shoulders.  Dean’s excited shouts and Sam’s laughter rang sweetly in Castiel’s ears as they ran the last few feet towards the trees. Sam looped repeatedly around each one, making several figure eights as Dean whooped and yelled for Sammy to go higher, faster, faster!

Castiel ambled over to his Winchesters when they finally cruised to a stop, Sam breathing heavily from exertion but grinning ear to ear, and Dean kicking his legs gently against Sam’s chest as he held Sam’s hair and sat alight his shoulders, looking for all the world like he belonged there.

Castiel offered Sam a bottle of water. “Careful, love, running around with Dean on your shoulders. You could fall.”

Lowering the bottle from his dampened lips, Sam winked at Castiel. “Lucky for me, we’ve got an angel to catch us.”

 

“I wike mini gowlf, Sammy,” Dean informed Sam as he popped his head through his Batman pajama shirt. Dean held onto Sam’s shoulders and stepped into his pj pants. Giggling when Sam snapped the waistband against Dean’s tummy, Dean threw his arms around Sam’s neck. “You fun, Sammy.”

“Aww.” Sam returned Dean’s hug. “You’re fun too, De. How about a story before bed?”

“Yes pwease.” Dean shut his eyes as Sam finger combed his damp hair “We go get ice cweam again?”.

Sam scooped Dean up and laid him in the middle of his and Castiel’s bed. “Anytime, baby boy.”

Dean grabbed Moose and held him close to his chest, kicking his feet underneath the covers. “Where’s Castell?”

Sam quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face. “He’ll be up soon.” Crawling into bed beside Dean, Sam lifted an arm so that Dean could snuggle underneath. “Now, where did we leave off?” Other than Castiel’s soft singing, nothing prepped Dean for sleep like another chapter of the story about Dean’s favorite hunter.

“Super Hunter found a spiwit, Sammy.” Dean cuddled in close, wrapping his arms around Moose and laying his head in the pocket of Sam’s chest and shoulder. “And she make Super Hunter fwy against the wall, but Super Hunter’s angel come and wescue him.”

“Ah, right.” Sam could gather enough from Dean’s summary to figure out where Cas had left off. Sam chuckled to himself, amused at his boyfriend’s attempt to add his own heroism to the story. “So Super Hunter’s angel comes in, and stares down the spirit, and says angrily, ‘Hey! You stay away from my hunter.’”

“I assure you, Super Hunter’s angel,” Castiel interrupted, curling his fingers to make air quotes as he entered the room, “does not sound so high-pitched, Sam Winchester.”

Dean shot up, shouting excitedly at Castiel. “I tell Sammy evwee time, he no do the voices wight!”  Dean crawled on his knees to the foot of the bed and reached his arms up to Castiel.

“Fine.” Sam crossed his arms sullenly. “You tell it, then, _absent_ angel.”

Castiel scolded Sam with merely a look, which Sam immediately returned with a sheepish apology. Sam knew their angel had been wandering the house, locking up, checking the warding and making sure they were still safe.  “We good?”

Cas picked Dean up and settled him on his hip, letting their little boy’s head rest against his shoulder as Cas quickly got ready for bed. “We’re good.”

Dean perked up. “Tell Sammy what Super Hunter and Sastiel do to the spiwit, Castell.”

Sam stared at Cas, mouth agape. “ _Sastiel?”_

Castiel’s mouth turned up as he stripped off his shirt, climbing into bed beside Sam, Dean settling comfortably squished in between them. “Well, I couldn’t tell him who…when I kept just calling him Angel, well.” Cas looked over Dean’s head at Sam. “He came up with it. Not me.”

Sam threw a hand over his eyes and gave Cas a dramatic wave. “Whatever. Continue.” But he peeked out from underneath his arm and gave Cas a wink and a smile.

“Alright then.” Cas drew the light blanket up to Dean’s shoulders and settled his head against the pillow, facing his boys. “As I was saying, Sastiel enters the room to find Super Hunter pinned against the wall, the spirit trapping him with her evil powers.”

“We don’t wike her,” Dean informed Sam quietly. Sam squeezed his hand and tried not to laugh as he waited for Cas to continue.

“The evil spirit looks at Super Hunter,’ Castiel bent his head low, putting his face right up close to Dean’s, “and with a frightful echo, she yells, ‘This is the end of you, Super Hunter!’ And she lifts her hands, her fingers outstretched, but before she can harm our hero, Sastiel steps in-“

“And frows his hand in her face!”

“That’s right, he throws his hand in her face, and counters her evil with all that is true and good, and-“

“And nen Super Hunter can move, and Super Hunter gwabs gun and he shoots the mean spiwit and says to weave Sastiel awone!”

Sam barely contained his laughter, Dean’s version of events a bit too similar to real events, and watches as Castiel just plays along. “That’s right, little one, and together they use good to defeat evil, and the evil spirit-“

“The spiwit falls down, and scweams, and pwomises never to be awive ever again!” Dean finished excitedly.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded solemnly, a twinkle in his eye. “Because Super Hunter, and his angel, and often a few others-“ Castiel winked fondly at Sam- “Their good always triumphs over evil.” Castiel gently stroked two fingers down Dean’s cheek, slightly lifting Dean’s chin. “Even when it’s hard. Even when it seems impossible. Their good will always, always win.”

“Yay!” Dean cheered. He kicked off his covers and chased Moose around the bed.

Sam leaned over and wrapped a hand around Castiel’s neck, pulling his angel in close for a kiss. Pressing his forehead against Castiel’s, Sam murmured, “I love you, Cas.”

Cas brought up a hand, encircling Sam’s wrist where he still wore the bracelet marked with Castiel’s grace. “I love you, Sam Winchester. I always will.” Castiel pulled back, just enough to look Sam in the eye. “Even when it’s hard. Even when it seems impossible.”

Sam swallowed, hard, and reached an arm out to Dean. “Come on, baby boy. Settle down. It’s bedtime.”

 

“Sammy?” Dean asked a few minutes later. Castiel’s soft hum was making Dean’s eyes droop, and he looked sleepily up at Sam.

“What, baby,” Sam whispered.

“Do you fink I’ll ever be as stwong as Super Hunter?”

Sam’s eyes watered again, and he leaned over to press a kiss to Dean’s hair. “Baby boy, I think you’ll grow up to be even stronger.”


	29. Chapter 29

 “How are we to kill this witch, Sam?” Castiel inquired.

“Witch-killing bullets,” Sam said as he loaded said bullets into his gun.  “Courtesy of one Bobby Singer.”

Castiel frowned. He glanced at Dean, who was sound asleep on the couch after a long morning of playing outside with Sam.  “And you are sure about this.”

Sam sighed, and put down the now fully loaded gun. He picked up a second weapon, loading it with witch-killing bullets like the first. Sam didn’t want either of them going into this showdown unarmed. “No. And yes.”

Castiel tucked Moose more firmly underneath Dean’s arm, then came around Sam’s chair. “I will miss him too, Sam.”

Sam finished his task, blinking away tears, determined not to let Castiel’s compassion wear him down. He had done his mourning over losing his little boy last night, after the three of them had told their story about none other than Dean the Super Hunter himself. Dean had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms, and Sam hadn’t even realized that he was silently crying his goodbyes until Castiel had wrapped his arms and wings around them, softly wiping away Sam’s tears with his soft, black feathers.

It was time, Sam reminded himself firmly. He couldn’t keep living in fear that the witch would keep tormenting them, or show up on their doorstep to taunt Dean, hurt Dean…or something even worse.  Sam had done the best he could to give Dean a chance to be little, and now he had to do something his big brother had always done for him.

Protect him, and keep him safe. To do that, Sam had to eliminate the threat on Dean’s life.  “Gabriel will get her here?”

Castiel nodded. The archangel had agreed to throw the witch into their path, as well as be around for backup should they need it.  The only thing he hadn’t been able to do was tell them, after the witch had been killed, how long would it take until Dean was big again?

“That I do not know, my brother. Could be five minutes, could take five days. We are kind of dealing with some new territory here.” Gabriel had then winked and disappeared, though not before wishing them luck.

At a few minutes to midnight that night, they struck.

 

A gentle breeze ruffled Sam’s hair, the slight coolness a welcome refresher on the muggy summer night. Sam perched readily on the thick branches of the sturdy oak in front of their house, while Castiel shielded himself behind the trunk of another. Dean was sound asleep upstairs, tucked snugly in their bed with a hefty dose of Castiel’s grace to comfort him as he slept.

Heat lightning flashed across the starry sky, and the wind picked up; strong, heavy bursts that unsettled the shrubbery and sent grass clippings and other debris racing across the street and sidewalks.  As it gusted harder, Sam held tight to the tree with one hand, clasping his gun securely in the other. His hair blew across his face as he nodded to Cas. A bolt of lightning touched the earth just inches from Castiel’s legs.

She was here.

Sam remembered the burns, on his own skin and on Dean’s. He cocked his gun.

“To think, dearie, that you thought you would ambush me from all the way up here,” A scratchy voice whispered directly into Sam’s ear, sounding clear as a bell pitched underneath the wind.

Sam flinched and launched himself from the tree, barely catching himself on a rolling fall as he hit the ground.  He immediately spun around and aimed into the branches he had just vacated, firing off a shot.

A shower of green sparks exploded from the flash point of the next lightning strike, and the witch’s laughter was more grating than any thunder crack Sam had ever heard. “An admirable try, to be sure,” the witch taunted. “I had assumed when that wretched archangel zapped me here, I would at least be facing a challenge.”  She aimed a fire of sparks at Sam’s hands, and he dropped his gun, his hands and arms burning.

A smug smile started to spread across the witch’s face. “Oh, dear.” She grinned, straight crazy with a touch of evil, and raised her arms to do it again.

The sound of the witch slamming against the tree trunk behind them, her body pinned by Castiel’s arm, knocked Sam back into his rhythm.

“We gave you a choice. You did not fix Dean, and you would not leave us alone.” Castiel averred.

Recovering his gun, Sam aimed it straight at her heart. “So tonight, you die.”

She laughed.

Cas caught Sam’s eye, checking in one more time.

Sam nodded…

And fired.

 

“S’mmy?” Dean slurred, stirring awake when Sam reached under the thin sheets to pull him close.

“I’m here, baby.” Castiel had healed Sam’s burned arms, and now, back in their bed safe and sound, Sam held Dean tight. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.” Sam reached behind him for Castiel’s hand, who gave him a reassuring squeeze.  “Everything is okay.”

It had been over as suddenly as it had all begun, and now, with his tiny baby brother held safely against his chest, Sam couldn’t imagine a life in which he wouldn’t have been able to know this sweet, little baby version of Dean.  That had been the greatest victory of all of this; knowing that the witch had unintentionally given both Sam and Dean something wonderful that they had never, ever had.

It only took seconds for Dean to fall back asleep, safe and secure in the arms of his brother. Castiel pressed a finger to his temple, wincing at the sound of Gabriel’s voice in his head. He settled in behind Sam, who asked, “What did he want?”

Castiel chuckled softly. “To congratulate us on a job well done.” Castiel also passed along Gabe’s generosity in cleaning up the body, and their front yard. Cas held Sam tight to share the next piece of news. “And that we have one more day, to be with Dean.”

Sam swallowed against the lump that quickly rose in his throat, but his tears spilled over at the sound of Dean’s soft sigh.

Rough fingers came up to wipe Sam’s eyes. “Hush, love. It will be alright.”

Sam nodded and turned so that Dean was now snuggled in between them. Holding Castiel’s hand tight, Sam whispered, “I know.”

 

“Sammy! Sam Sam Sammy!” Dean bounced up and down on the bed, pouncing on Sam’s chest to wake him up.

Still a little worn out from the night before, but unwilling to miss even a second of today with his baby, Sam sat up. He caught Dean against his chest, and tickled his baby brother until Dean was a giggling mess, crawling over to Castiel, hiding behind the angel’s body for relief from Sam’s wiggling fingers. “No, Sammy!”

“No?” Sam yawned and stretched, the corner of his mouth curving upwards when he saw Castiel’s sharp blue eyes raking across his chest. Sam gave his angel a wink and leaned down to kiss Dean on the nose.

Dean perched on Castiel’s shoulder and smacked his hands against Sam’s cheeks.  “What are we gonna do today, Sammy?”

Sam scooped Dean out of bed, lifting Dean high above his head to kiss his tummy. “Whatever you want, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there, lovelies. Don't worry, I am crying too  
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What else can I say, except thank you, my lovelies. It has been a wonderful journey. 
> 
> FOR THOSE THAT JUST CANNOT READ ANY NON-LITTLE DEAN......much love. If you do not want a hint of non-little Dean, stop reading at the XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.

_“Sammy! Sam Sam Sammy!” Dean bounced up and down on the bed, pouncing on Sam’s chest to wake him up._

_Still a little worn out from the night before, but unwilling to miss even a second of today with his baby, Sam sat up. He caught Dean against his chest, and tickled his baby brother until Dean was a giggling mess, crawling over to Castiel, hiding behind the angel’s body for relief from Sam’s wiggling fingers. “No, Sammy!”_

_“No?” Sam yawned and stretched, the corner of his mouth curving upwards when he saw Castiel’s sharp blue eyes raking across his chest. Sam gave his angel a wink and leaned down to kiss Dean on the nose._

_Dean perched on Castiel’s shoulder and smacked his hands against Sam’s cheeks.  “What are we gonna do today, Sammy?”_

_Sam scooped Dean out of bed, lifting Dean high above his head to kiss his tummy. “Whatever you want, baby.”_

 

Dean came running down the stairs, clad in just his dolphin print swimsuit. “I’m weady, Sammy!”

Sam turned from where he was making lunch for the three of them, after a morning full of playing in the park with Benny and Carly. Sam and Cas felt like Dean should have one last round of playing with a true friend, with no worry in the world except to chase each other, climb the jungle gym, and soar down the slides and on swings. “Ready for what, De?”

“I wanna go swimming.” Dean had Moose tucked beneath one arm, and a bottle of suntan lotion in the other. “I even wet you put on sun scween.” He held the bottle out to Sam, whose heart just about broke at the hopeful look on Dean’s face.

“I, uh. I’m not sure where-“ Sam could set up the sprinkler again he supposed, but as luxurious as their new house was, they didn’t have a pool. He should have talked to Cas about that, but snapping a pool onto their lot out of nowhere would raise more than a few eyebrows.

Dean’s arms fell listlessly against his sides. “But we, we go to pool?”

Sam knelt down in front of Dean. “Oh, baby.” His brother must have been remembering the hotel pool they stayed at so many months ago. “I-“

Sam was cut off by a firm squeeze to his shoulder. “What your Sammy is trying to say, little one,” Castiel interrupted, “is that we would love to take you to a pool. In fact, we shall take you somewhere with lots of pools. We just aren’t quite ready yet ourselves, are we love?”

“Uh,” Sam rose, searching Castiel’s face. “What’s up, angel?” he asked quietly, running a hand over Dean’s hair.

“There are places I can take us to,” Castiel hinted. “I believe you humans call them ‘water parks’?”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Cas.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “I should think perhaps you and Dean never went to one, as children? I saw a commercial, when Dean left the TV on, for-“

Sam yanked his angel close and smacked his lips against Castiel’s. “No. I mean yes. I mean, no, we never got to go to one, and Cas, we would always drive by them, on the road, but Dad never let us stop, and…”

“Sammy?” Dean tugged on Sam’s hand. “We go pway?”

Sam scooped Dean up, pressed a sloppy kiss to his baby brother’s cheek, then thrust Dean into Castiel’s arms. “Yes, baby boy. We are gonna go play. We are gonna go play at the coolest pool you have ever seen.” With that, Sam ran up to pack a quick bag, before racing back downstairs to take his angel’s hand and be zapped away.

 

“SAMMY CATCH ME!” Dean screamed, a huge grin on his face, as he careened down a miniature water slide.

Sam waited in the pool at the bottom, his arms spread wide. “I will always catch you, baby boy.” Sam gathered Dean into his arms, both of them sporting gigantic smiles as Dean crashed into Sam with a big splash.

Cas had flown them via angel air to one of the biggest water parks in the Midwest, featuring numerous water slides, a floating obstacle course, a wave pool with colorful inner tubes, and a lazy river flowing through the entire park with tubes to lounge in as the stimulated current swept along.

Speaking of Cas, Sam was having one hell of a time keeping his eyes off of his angel, wearing only a dark blue swimsuit the same color of his eyes, even though this was their last day with little Dean. Castiel’s dark shock of hair shining even darker for being wet didn’t help, and Sam groaned as he hoisted Dean higher onto his hip, resolutely turning away from the sexy, dripping display of powerful angel that was standing waist deep in the pool not six inches away.

“What’s next, baby boy?” Sam jiggled Dean on his hip, wiping excess water from Dean’s eyes.

Dean rubbed his face against Sam’s shoulder, threw his arms around Sam’s neck, and pointed to the wave pool. “Dat, Sammy!”

 

Dean splashed and ran into the rolling waves, bracketed on either side by his Sammy and his angel. They held his hands as they all waded into the imitation ocean waves, Sam reaching outwards to secure a tube float.  When they got far enough in that Dean could no longer stand and still be above water, Sam hopped into the float and Dean hopped onto Cas.

“We go deeper, Castell!” Dean shouted, his arms locked around Castiel’s neck as he rode along on his angel’s back.

“Yeah, Cas.” Sam smirked. Leaning onto his elbows, hanging off the side of his tube float, Sam whispered huskily into Castiel’s ear. “Go deeper.”

“Behave yourself, Sam Winchester.” Castiel growled, clasping a strong hand around Dean’s little fists on the front of his neck. Sending a splash of water at Sam, right onto Sam’s bracelet that housed a bit of Castiel’s grace, Cas pierced him with his ocean eyes. “There are little ears present.”

Sam grinned and sank into the water, only to resurface again and whip his hair out of his eyes, sending droplets spraying onto Dean and Cas. “Always, angel.”

Castiel glared at him, but shot Sam a wink before taking off with Dean, swimming their baby boy deeper into the waves.

“Yay, Castell!” Dean bounced excitedly on Castiel’s back as he swam them through the waves and the crowd. “You wike a mermaid!”

Sam burst out laughing, and Castiel frowned, trying to peer at Dean over his shoulder. “A mermaid?”

“Yeah!” Dean tightened his grip around Castiel’s neck. “Swim us all da way in, mermaid Cas!”

Cas grunted, but couldn’t deny the absolute joy that penetrated his vessel at feeling Dean’s excitement and hearing Sam’s laughter. “Alright, little one. Hold on tight. Here we go.”

 

“What’s next, De?”

“Water swides, Sammy!”

“More slides?”

“Yeah Sammy! I wanna fwy!”

“Okay, baby. You got it.”

 

“You think I should put more lotion on him?” Sam asked later, as he and Cas floated alongside each other in the slow current of the lazy river, relaxing on bright blue inner tubes. Dean was draped over Sam’s chest, fighting the urge to fall asleep as Sam threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair as they floated along.

 Cas waved a hand, and Sam felt a tingle along his body as well as Dean’s. “No need.”

Sam’s head dropped back against the soft rubber tube. “Thanks, Cas.” He ran a hand up and down Dean’s back, savoring this moment of pure, unadulterated relaxation.

Castiel tightened his fingers around Sam, pulling their tubes closer together as they floated along with their baby boy, ignoring the questioning looks from strangers floating by them. “My pleasure, Sam.”

“No, I mean.” Sam brought Castiel’s fingers to his lips. “For bringing us here. For giving us this experience.” Sam turned his head to look at his angel. “For sticking with us. For everything.”

“Sam.” Cas hopped out of his tube, and stood alongside Sam and Dean’s as he pushed them along with the current, so he could be closer to his family. “I truly mean it.” The look Castiel gave him made Sam shiver, and the softness with which Castiel cupped a hand around the back of Dean’s head as their child fell asleep right there, floating along, nestled against Sam’s chest, made Sam’s throat lock up and his eyes water. “It has been my pleasure.”

 

“Sammy?” Dean pushed his speedboat around the Jacuzzi tub, blowing bubbles with his mouth.

“Yeah, baby?” Sam gently tipped Dean’s head back, trying to shove away the thought that this would be the last time he would do this for his brother.

“I wuv you.”

Sam froze.

Dean rubbed water out of his eyes, and blinked at Sam. “You da best Sammy ever.”

Fuck it. Sam stripped down to his boxers, having already showered once upon returning home from the water park. He hopped into the enormous tub alongside Dean, and, Sam’s chest to Dean’s back, gathered his baby brother close and kissed his temple. “I love you too, baby boy. You are the best Dean ever. Don’t you ever forget that, okay?”

Dean nodded. “Okay. You want me to cwean?”

Sam smiled through watery eyes. “You’re already clean, baby. But I can wash you again if you’d like.”

Dean shook his head, and set his speedboat on the rim of the tub. “No, Sammy. I mean I hewp you be cwean.” Dean picked up his yellow wash cloth and rubbed Sam’s face. “Dere. Now you cwean!”

Sam tucked his sudsy face into Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Castell need cwean too?” Dean’s eyes started to droop, but he checked with Sam anyway.

Sam burst out laughing. “He’s probably good, baby. But you know what?”

Dean shook his head, and reached up to play with Sam’s hair.

Sam smiled, and pulled the plug in the tub. “I bet he’s waiting for us, to go to bed.” Sam gave Dean one last squeeze, then rose from the water. “Should we go tuck him in?”

Dean nodded and reached out his arms for Sam to pick him up.

“Okay.” Sam wrapped Dean in a soft, fluffy towel, then carried him into their bedroom for Cas to put on his pjs. “Let’s go tuck him in.”

 

“Super Hunter awways win.” Dean said sleepily, his head braced against Castiel’s shoulder, his little body tucked warmly in between Cas and Sam.

“Always,” Castiel agreed. He looked at Sam over Dean’s head. “Don’t you forget it.”

Dean nodded. “Sweepy, Castell.”

“Yes, you have had quite the exciting day, little one.” Castiel brushed a finger softly along Dean’s cheek.

“Castell?”

Castiel flicked off the light, and gathered his arms and wings around his Winchesters as they settled in together for the last time. “Yes, little one?”

“I wuv you.”

“Dammit,” Sam whispered, his eyes welling up again.

Castiel tightened his hold, his arms coming around Dean and his wings comforting Sam. “I love you too, little one. Into forever. No matter what.”

Dean’s eyes fell closed, his face pressed against Castiel’s shoulder and his body tucked against Sam’s chest.

“Sam.”

“Cas.”

Their fingers tangled in the moonlit room, their breaths mingling, as they watched, for one more night, over their little Dean.

 

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**** Stop here, for those of you who mentioned to me that you want to keep him forever little in this fic. Otherwise, please continue.***

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Dean walked into the kitchen, exhausted, wanting coffee but opting for something else that he hadn’t had a taste of in far too long- whiskey. It was the middle of the damn night, his body was sore all over, he was confused, and he felt more than a little disjointed, having woken up on a gigantic king bed in between his brother and Castiel.

He knew he had lost a lot of time as an adult, he remembered being cursed to one fourth his size, he remembered a shitstorm of green sparks, but at the moment, foggy with soreness and fatigue, Dean struggled to place much more other than that.

Dean poured only a small amount of whiskey into a tumbler, hoping just the right amount of liquor would help him fall asleep. He wandered over to the freezer, debating over throwing a few ice cubes into his glass, when two photos clipped next to each other on the fridge made him pause.

The first was of him –damn, he really had been small!- standing in front of Sam’s legs, Dean’s arms wrapped around Sam’s as Sam bent down and hugged him tight from behind, matching grins on their faces. Dean could see a splendidly decorated Christmas tree in the background, so it wasn’t hard to place the timing of the picture.

Dean smiled, and plucked the second photo from the fridge to get a better look. It must have been taken and printed from Sam’s phone, because it had selfie written all over it. Dean once again marveled at the tiny version of himself, sandwiched between Sam and Cas, all three of them lying on the plush looking sheets of a king-sized bed.  One of Sam’s arms was outstretched, holding the phone so as to snap the picture, and the other was wrapped around Dean and reaching all the way to Castiel’s outside shoulder. Once again Dean caught their matching smiles, and it made his chest hurt, in the same way he did whenever he thought of his mom, to see how happy they all looked. Even if Cas wasn’t grinning at the camera like Sam and Dean were.

No, Castiel’s gaze, shit, Dean couldn’t call it anything other than fond, was fixed on himself and Sam. Dean almost didn’t recognize his familiar stoic Angel of the Lord; Cas looked more like any normal guy, relaxed and in love with his family.

Dean swallowed hard at that, wishing he could remember more of his time with them, wondering if this new thing between Sam and Cas would make everything different. Dean’s eyes wandered over other papers stuck onto the fridge with silly magnets- a collection of colored scribbles on paper that he assumed had been his own handiwork, a couple of messy fingerpaint attempts-one of which resembled a very blurred version of the impala, another an atrocious rendering of what he assumed to be Castiel-a grocery list in Sam’s handwriting, coupons and phone numbers for local restaurants and such.

Stuff any normal family might have plastered all over their fridge. Dean ran his fingers over the colored doodles, laughing inwardly at his lack of talent.

“Masterpieces, every one of them.”  Dean swung around, not having heard Cas enter the kitchen. Castiel’s eyes locked on to the messy fingerpainted impression of himself. “Though I must confess, that is my favorite.”

Dean felt himself flush, and immediately felt stupid. But Cas didn’t seem to think he was anything of the sort. “I’m not sure I remember any of it.” Dean admitted softly.

Castiel did not seem surprised by this. He pulled out a chair and sat, cocked casually sideways at the table. “Perhaps you might, in time.”

Dean nodded, not quite sure. He rose an eyebrow, first at the drawings, then at Cas. “Is he really going to keep all of these?”

Cas shrugged, a tender look on his face. “You know Sam.”

Dean smiled, looking again at the pictures of his smiling brother, arms wrapped happily around Dean. Sammy had always been sentimental, Dean thought, a pang of affection for his brother seizing his heart.  

Dean forced himself to look away from the two photos. “Look, Cas,” he began awkwardly, taking a seat across the table. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t really know what to say, I mean.” Dean gestured a hand in the general direction of the rest of the house. “This is all so damn different than our usual. Pretty freaking domestic. Obviously what happened to me has changed some things-“

“If this is about me and Sam-“

Dean waved him off. “Yeah, I’m gonna have plenty to say about that later.” But he softened his gaze, so that Cas would know he wasn’t angry. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s obvious that while I was, uh, little…I mean Sammy’s not used to being the older brother you know, although it looks like he did a pretty awesome job, uh…shit.”

Cas sat patiently through Dean’s ramblings, and Dean caught the slight upturn of Castiel’s lips. “Dammit.”

“It is alright, Dean. You don’t have to finish.”

“Yeah, I feel like I do.” Dean ran a hand awkwardly through his hair. “Look, all I’m trying to say is, clearly I was little for quite a while, and Sammy obviously didn’t take care of me all by himself, so.” Dean locked his gaze with Castiel’s. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

Cas kept his casual expression, but Dean could tell the words meant something to him, and that made Dean glad he had said them. After a while, Cas spoke. “You can thank me by telling Sam the same thing,”

Dean blew out a breath. “Yeah.”

Cas rose, and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You know, the younger version of yourself had no problem letting the people around him know that he loved them. He said it with no hesitation, and gave out hugs every chance he got. You might try it occasionally,” Cas suggested lightly, though his hand gave Dean’s shoulder a strong, quick squeeze. “Like, say, with your brother.”

“Right,” Dean mumbled, conveying that he got the message.

Cas squeezed Dean’s shoulder one more time, and looked down at Dean with a stern expression, but a twinkle in those sapphire eyes. He started to leave the kitchen, then slowly turned. “I’m here, you know.  If you have trouble sleeping.”

Dean puffed out a short laugh. “I’m a grown man, Cas. I think I can manage.”

Castiel nodded, but his blue eyes were still twinkling as he left the room.

Dean shook his head in amusement. He set his glass in the sink and headed to his bedroom.

Castiel must have worked some pretty fast angel mojo in here, Dean thought when he got back upstairs, because Dean knew his room hadn’t looked this masculine when he had been little. This morning when he had wandered in here upon waking up, it had been to find a bed that had only been half his size, made up with batman sheets. Toys had been scattered all over the floor, and before Dean had run out of the room confused, sore, and looking for Sam, he had remembered seeing a large toy box with toys and stuffed animals spilling out of it.

There was now a queen sized bed with a large, mahogany headboard taking up most of the room, a wooden chest with his weapons duffel on top where the toy box had been, and no toys or stuffed animals to be seen, except for a small stuffed moose sitting in front of Dean’s pillow.  Dean picked it up, smoothing once more calloused fingers over its soft fur. An image flashed through his mind, of cowboys and games and carnival lights, and rather than toss the stuffed toy aside, Dean fondly set the moose on top of the shelf of his headboard. A small firetruck was there too, and truth be told, a tiny part of Dean kind of missed the batman sheets, now replaced with dark navy stripe. Because come on, Batman was always awesome.

Dean crawled into his new sheets, soft and smooth, and folded his hands behind his head. He tried hard to remember, to grasp onto any memory of being little, anything he could hold on to from his second childhood, but couldn’t come up with anything past the one flash he had had when he had picked up the stuffed moose. Maybe Cas was right, maybe it would come back over time. Not that Dean wanted to be a toddler again, hell no. He missed his guns, his car, and his whiskey. But hearing Sam and Cas talk about it today, and just now seeing the photos on the fridge, well, Dean figured it still had been pretty cool.

But for now, trying to remember was only making his brain tired, and a little stressed. His body was still kind of sore from ageing up so fast, so Dean shifted onto his side and molded his pillow into a comfier position.

“Dammit.” Thirty minutes later, he still hadn’t fallen asleep. He couldn’t hear any noise coming from Sam and Cas’s room –not that he would want to, gross- and the country night was silent. Dean thought about opening a window, to let in some air and maybe a little noise, because seriously, the silence was driving him mad. It was just too loud to calm his mind. Just when he was about to throw off his sheets and go down for another shot of whiskey, he heard it.

Dean stilled, trying to pinpoint where the low, humming tune was coming from. His eyes drooped, even as he fought to keep them open, to puzzle out the musical sound flowing through his brain. He pressed a hand to his forehead, but quickly lowered it, his limbs going heavy, his fingers gently curling into the sheets as his body relaxed, calmed by the familiar tune.

Dean gave in, and let the soothing lullaby drift through his mind.

Not two minutes later, Dean Winchester was sound asleep.

 

“Cas.”

“Hmm.”

Sam rose up on his elbows from where he had been lightly dozing. He could feel a very subtle concentration, almost a low vibration, coming from the man next to him. Sam rested his chin on his pillow, and studied his angel. “Can’t sleep?”

Castiel turned his head sideways, his mind still focused on carrying the lullaby into Dean’s room, giving Sam a sheepish look. “Your brother can’t.”

Sam smiled sleepily, scooting closer to Cas, molding his long body all along Castiel’s side. “Softie.”

“Says the man who has kept all of Dean’s pictures.” Cas groaned as Sam’s body enveloped his, automatically turning his head to meet the warm mouth that sought his. “Our not so little anymore boy is exhausted.”

“He needs the rest,” Sam agreed, peppering kisses along Castiel’s collarbone. “Don’t let me distract you.” Sam refused to think of Dean as an adult again just yet, and Castiel’s hands and lips skimming along his body certainly offered a more than adequate diversion. Sam arched into Castiel’s touch, letting out a sinful moan.

“Heathen.” Cas pinched Sam’s side, then slid his hands down to cup Sam’s ass, hauling Sam over top of him. Castiel gripped Sam’s hips tight, thrusting strongly up against them.

“Oh, Jesus,” Sam swore. He moved his hips in time with Castiel’s. “Thought you were helping Dean.”

“He is sleeping now.” Cas growled, flipping them over to fit Sam underneath him. “Quite soundly, in fact.”

“You, mmm yes… you work fast.” Sam moaned, and his head tilted back as Castiel fisted a hand in his hair, his scorching lips blazing a path down Sam’s jaw, his chest, his ribs.

Castiel continued his journey downwards, pausing only to look up at Sam, flashing him a devilish grin. “Only on some things.” Sam gasped and arched his hips off the bed, this time his own hands fisting in Castiel’s dark hair as his angel wrapped his mouth around Sam. “In others,” Cas rumbled, that gravelly voice rolling straight through Sam’s soul, “I take my time.”

Two hours later, sated and exhausted, Sam drifted off to sleep in the safe, loving arms of his angel, unable to help the smile that graced his face. Because thinking of his new life with Cas, his big brother Dean, and memories of his little boy that he would always treasure, Sam fell asleep with only one, simple thought.

Sam Winchester was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for joining me in exploring this little family. What started as a fluff fic to get me through quite a dark time has exploded into my most-read work, and I've so enjoyed writing, reading, and chatting with you all.
> 
> Stay beautiful, lovelies. Thanks for loving little Dean and his daddies as much as I did.
> 
> xoxox

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out my original debuts at www.autumnmckayne.com  
> Twitter - @autumnmckayne


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